


A Western Welcome

by lzclotho



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, Femslash, Girls with Guns, Romance, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2499113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lzclotho/pseuds/lzclotho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan, gunslinger, enters the town of Book's Pass to find the entire town at the establishment of Regina Mills, a woman who runs a brothel, and apparently has taken in a new girl. When violence threatens, Emma steps in. But Regina is far from grateful. When brown and green eyes meet, however... Just read, and enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayryn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Old West Emma & Regina](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/79820) by Kayryn. 



> This started from a plot-bunny off a manipulated graphic of an AU Emma and Regina in one of those Old West sepia styles, clothing and all. By the remarkable Kayryn. She has since removed it, considering it not her best work. She gave me permission to use it with this fic, though. So I thank her greatly. Early chapters have been beta read by the incomparable fictorium, and later chapters by paradoxalpoised. This was 2 years in the writing, so I thank you both immensely!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gunslinger Emma Swan enters Book's Pass to find the entire town has gathered at the local brothel run by one Regina Mills and steps right into the middle of a local fray.

 

Generally, riding into a town around midday wasn't greeted with as much noise, Emma thought. She rounded the side of a building, the General Store, and guided her horse onto the well-packed dirt of the Main Street. The hollerin' and general hell-raisin' sounds made her search for the saloon.

The saloon's wooden doors were still, no one entering or exiting. No, the noise was coming from somewheres else. She geed her horse forward, watching his ears atwitchin', and looking around herself as she tried to decide where the sounds were originating. The sounds now were beginning to separate into voices. She heard men, and some women, and then one woman's in particular, arguing with a man. But she still couldn't make out all the words. Somethin' about getting off her property.

With one hand she slid the leather strap off her holstered gun. She was definitely gettin' the feelin' it was gonna be needed.

She slid off Bug's back, slapping his rump, her signal to find a safe place to hole out. She watched him lift his nose and then trot off in the direction of what was likely the town livery. They'd traveled a long road together, she and Bug, and he'd never failed to reappear or find himself a sweet hay bale given out by an even sweeter hand.

Emma smiled. She'd often had a touch of those sweet hands in the aftermath of a gunfight herself. Silently she wished her traveling companion luck and then focused her mind on handling whatever this was coming up ahead.

She strode around the corner and found herself on the outskirts of a mob scene. People were shovin' and hollerin' and now that she was at ground level with 'em, it was again hard to separate one voice from another. No one had noticed her yet, so she circled around the crowd, seeking a clear line of sight to the inside to identify the central characters in the conflict.

A woman in an expensively tailored fashion from the Continent stood with her hands on her hips regally staring down the burly man in duster and covered in the typical trail duds of a cowman. The dark brown hair piled artfully atop her head added to the general "don't mess with me" attitude coming off the woman in waves. Emma smiled at the sight of another woman who, like herself, clearly didn't take shit from nobody.

"Bring her out here right now!" the man shouted.

"The young miss doesn't want to come to the likes of you," the woman replied.

"She's mine, and she'd come when told if'n you wasn't keepin' her!" The man's bluster was rapidly shortening his speech and Emma knew that the violence was only a word or two away now.

Since everyone's eyes were on the man and woman facing off, Emma slipped in along the group unnoticed and was just behind a man encouraging, "You tell 'er, Jameson!"

"And you keep out of this, Mr. Walton, or I'll deny you any of my girls when you come in from the trail next."

"But Miss Regina, she's his."

"She has decided to end her association, and I won't tell her different. A woman has a right to her own choices."

"She's not a woman, she's my girl, and I make her decisions!" Jameson hollered and stormed onto the porch of the house. "I found her a good 'un and she's gonna take him." The man had obviously, finally, had enough of shouting and decided action was needed.

Emma was there, blocking his raised hand before he finished his thought. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, turning the bones, taking his strength from his hand. "It ain't your place to school the lady, sir."

His eyes were wide, startled, and then as she twisted his wrist further, rapidly filling with pain. "Who the hell are you?"

She twisted effortlessly and brought him to his knees. His eyes were wide as silver dollars, staring up at her. "Ain't you nevermind that. I aim to see this lady is left alone." She lifted her gun out of her holster with her other hand and cocked it in the same motion, barrel pointing down and not at him, but the implication clear. She'd shoot him if he made a move.

"Now, this is a mite better."

"Who are you?" came at Emma from behind her. She glanced back at the well-dressed woman who now had a name. Regina.

"Name's Swan," Emma replied. "So's I got it clear, you wanna tell me the story?"

Shocked sounds rippled through the crowd. Emma twitched her gun and for good measure twisted Jameson's wrist and everything fell to silence once more.

"His daughter came to my establishment last night, asked for help."

"Your establishment is..."

Her back straightening, Regina's brown eyes leveled at Emma as if daring her to judge. "I offer company and comfort for the trail-lonely man."

"Brothel," shouted someone in the crowd.

Emma nodded. "And shelter to runaway girls it would seem." The woman inclined her head slightly, but did not reply. "Where's the girl?"

"Hiding in the parlor."

"Fetch her."

"But..."

"Fetch her. We'll all hear what she has to say."

Regina looked around at the crowd, then back to Swan, who nodded reassuringly. She disappeared into the house, and Emma could just make out the low sounds of two females talking.

Regina stepped outside again, this time holding the door for a young girl who couldn't be more than 13. The blond was just getting her womanly curves, but still had much of her baby face about her. And her hair was still in child's braids.

Jameson tried to wrest his hand away from Emma and she warned him down with another sharp twist. Too bad she couldn't muzzle him. He shouted at the girl, "Grace, darlin'! You gotta come home."

Grace looked around at the mob assembled then at Emma. "Who're you?"

"Just givin' you the space to make your own choices."

The girl looked at her father. "I don't want to marry Mister Whale, Pa."

"He's paid 23 head of cattle for you."

"Just 23," Emma interjected. "Your daughter and she's worth only 23 cows?"

"Around here that's a goodly sum, Swan," Regina informed her.

"It's ridiculous." Emma pushed Jameson away from her, kicking her boot into his face. He stormed to his feet. She leveled her gun at his chest, drawing him up short. "And what do I get if I shoot him dead right now for sellin' his girl for 23 cows?"

"A passel o' trouble," Jameson growled. "My hands and my town. You walkin' out o' here wouldn't be in the cards."

"How much does 23 head go for over at the yard?" Emma said.

"Almost a hunnert bucks," Jameson said.

Emma nodded. "Buyin' and sellin' people went out with the War," she said withdrawing and throwing a wad of bills at Jameson. "There's your hundred bucks. I just bought your girl."

"You cain't do that. You're a woman."

"My money's same as another's, now git out. Your girl's mine now. And I defend what's mine."

Jameson looked at the money, then at Emma again. He pocketed the bills. At that sight, the mob, some mumbling, began to break up.

Miss Regina held Grace by the shoulder as the three women watched the town walk away. A few glanced back when Emma uncocked her gun, settling it back in her holster. "Swan?" Emma looked at her. "Is that your first name or family name?"

"No family. First name's Emma."

"Well... Emma. How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"

"Got anything stronger?" She let out her breath quietly, but the nerves were slower in dissipating.

Regina smiled. "I might."

To cover her shaking hand, Emma patted Grace's shoulder. Regina turned and entered the house, followed by Grace. Finally, Emma scanned the empty street before following the madam and the runaway inside.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma tries to get information from Regina then, when she's dismissed by the prickly madam, Emma follows her horse to the local livery and meets some others from town as she figures out what to do next.

Regina sent Grace to the kitchen with a quiet word against the girl's hair before she turned around to gesture her guest into the parlor. "Miss Swan?" She saw the woman had stopped in the foyer studying the large gilt edged mirror. She answered the unspoken question. "I find the men will straighten themselves a bit, as if courting the lady. It enforces the respect I expect to be given in my establishment."

Emma removed her bandanna from around her throat and used it to dab at her cheeks, removing some trail dust. Apparently satisfied with the effort, the woman tucked the brown cloth into her jeans pocket. "Where is your usual muscle? I find it hard to believe-"

"This may be Jameson's town but I have been here just as long."

"No need to get your back up. I'm just surprised is all."

"No more than I at your appearance." Regina opened a cabinet and withdrew a long necked bottle filled with amber liquid. Two glasses were poured.

"What would you have done if I hadn't come along?" Emma accepted one of the glasses, her fingers just brushing those of the madam.

"I still had a few options." Regina considered the Widow Lucas who ran the diner and boarding house since her husband's death in the range war. The woman could fell a beast at a hundred paces; but Regina had to admit the widow had not been among the townspeople assembled at her doorstep.

Emma said nothing, and Regina looked up from her thoughts to see gold-flecked green eyes studying Regina over the rim of the glass. "You consider your protection the fact that you offer a service most men wouldn't want to see gone." It wasn't a question.

Regina bristled. "I don't allow my girls or my clients to be maligned, Miss Swan."

"I didn't say you did. Just, you didn't have a lot of options before I came along." Emma finished the glass and held it toward Regina with a lift of her brow.

Regina took the glass and refilled it. "Are you fishing for a compliment? I didn't think you were the type."

"Nah. Compliments are worthless. I was just noticing a few things." Emma shrugged. "I like to know the lay of the land."

The double entendre was not lost on Regina. "You are uncouth."

"I'd say you are as well. But you hide it prettily," Emma stepped into Regina's personal space. Their gazes held for a long breath before Emma took back her glass from Regina's hand, again brushing the woman's silken olive skin. "Thanks for the drink, Madam."

"My name is Regina Mills, not Madam."

"I didn't say it wasn't, but thank you. I much prefer Regina."

"Miss Swan." Emma Swan simply smirked that Regina had made a point of the more formal address. Then Regina frowned and decided to try another tack. "What brought you here, Miss Swan?"

"I'm hunting someone," Emma replied simply, an answer, yet not. The blonde was private, that much was clear.

Regina sipped her cider, pleased with the warm confidence it provided. "That sounds like self-appointed justice."

"It is," Emma agreed. She tossed back the final swallow of cider, smacking her lips appreciatively. "Thank you for the drink, Regina. I should be seeing to my Bug."

"Your what?"

"My horse."

"You have a horse?" Regina hadn't seen a horse outside. "Where is it?"

"Most people who travel do." Emma chuckled. "I'm sure he found his way to the livery. So I'm gonna go handle that."

Regina watched Emma place the glass on a table and turn away. She thought of Jameson possibly out there looking to avenge his humiliation on the new blond interloper to their town. She said quickly, "Be careful."  _What the hell am I doing?_  Regina thought. The blonde was no one of importance. She would be moving along soon, and her arrival and departure would be quickly forgotten, by everyone.

Emma paused with her hand on the doorknob, the door still closed. A smile twitched on her lips as her face turned in profile. She nodded. "You're very welcome, Regina Mills."

Regina stood, cider glass in hand but untouched, for many minutes in the silence following the latch of the door snicking securely into place. She stared at the knob and wondered why she felt so bereft.

* * *

The walk to the livery was easy, just following her nose. Emma was glad she didn't need to think too hard about that. She was too on her guard after leaving the brothel. She'd been touched at the concern by the mad- _Regina_ , she mentally corrected, extra pleased at their exchange of familiar names. The woman had been telling her to be safe though she didn't need the reminder. Emma had been on the receiving end of face-saving revenge a time or two in the past.

Eyes watched her from behind curtains in windows, some plain, some frilly. If everyone hadn't been at the brothel to see the confrontation, clearly they had all heard about it. Emma sometimes wished she'd had plainer looks, dark hair instead of blonde, and she could have used a wool dye to cover it up, or cut it shorter, but for her objective, looking exactly like herself was important. When she found her quarry, she intended for them to know her at first sight.

She quickened her stride and soon rounded the corner of a silent blacksmith's shop and stood in front of the closed doors of the town livery. In reality a big barn, the livery was brightly painted in red, proudly announcing Book's Pass Livery on the sign overhead. So now she had a town name.

The structure was well-kept, a good sign pointing toward the animals being well-treated inside. To the left of the livery stood a small building about double the size of an outhouse but it looked cheerful, also painted red, sporting a tiny porch shading a door and single window. No light on in the window.

Emma walked around to the right side of the livery, headed toward the stalls that emptied out onto the fenced paddock. The quiet thumps of hoofbeats against dirt grew louder. Finally she could see moonlight illuminated her golden Bug, prancing in the paddock, as he circled a bay mare. Not disturbing the scene for a moment, Emma laid her head on her arms across the top of the paddock fence, watching her horse ply his wiles on the delicately boned bay which was, to all appearances, a truly fine piece of horseflesh.

Bug danced toward the bay, who lifted her slender head from cropping at the grass. When she saw him, he danced backward and to the side, tossing his head. Emma smiled. _Playboy_ , she thought with warm amusement.

The bay stretched a foreleg forward toward Bug, shifting her weight, but then dropped her nose back into the grass. Emma watched Bug stop dancing and his head lifted, as though he was surprised. Emma laughed.

The sound brought both horses' heads swiveling around to find her. "Ah, Bug," she said, finishing with another chuckle as she climbed to the top of the paddock fence and threw a leg over. "C'mere." She patted the thick denim covering her thigh.

The golden horse trotted to her. She patted his withers and wondered aloud, "Who took off your saddle and my bags, eh, boy?"

"I did."

Emma turned as the bay nosed in front of Bug to scent her. The move would have knocked Emma from the fence if not for her quick reflexes in grabbing the wood slat between her thighs.

Emerging from the shadows was a slender woman, dark brunette, younger than Emma, brown eyes. She wore a bright red bandanna around her neck and dark blue denim coveralls cut off above the knees. Her shirt was a serviceable red and white plaid.

Emma swung down into the paddock, straightening to meet the woman striding toward her. Emma held out her hand. "My thanks, then. What do I owe you for the tendin'?"

"You're that woman the town's talkin' 'bout from Miss Regina's place."

Emma nodded. "I s'pose."

"What's your name?"

"Swan. And you? You own this place?"

"Name's Ruby. My grandmother owns the livery."

"So, Ruby," Emma stepped closer, enjoying the way the younger woman smiled while absently petting the bay who'd come up to them both. Bug nosed into Emma's other side and she held his nose, keeping it from exploring inside her shirt. "What do you I owe you for taking care of Bug here for me?"

"Depends."

"Depends?" Emma's smile broadened. "On what?"

"On whether you're staying or just passing through."

"Why's that matter?"

"Passing through pays. Staying," she gestured at a big two-story house on the far side of the paddock, "at the boarding house gets free livery."

"You get many takers on that offer?" Emma asked, bemused.

"Don't get many visitors."

"Show me where you stowed my saddlebags and I'll pay for a week upfront. How's that sound?"

"Right this way." Ruby turned around and walked into the open stall from where she'd come. The bay followed her, and Bug followed the bay. Emma shook her head and followed the trio, a smile playing on her lips.

###


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina Mills awakes the next morning to go about her business, only to find Miss Emma Swan has decided to be her shadow.

Regina Mills awoke with the dawn as she had every morning since coming to Book's Pass. Slipping from beneath her sheets, she bathed her face in the bracing cool water from the small basin beneath an oval gilded mirror hanging from a knot in the wood beam wall. She sat on the small three-legged stained wood stool before the mirror. Taking up the horsehair brush, she pulled it in long continuous strokes through her mahogany locks, meeting her own gaze in the reflection. She counted her strokes and considered the plan for her day ahead.

The girls would already have collected the eggs from the laying hens. But she could probably start looking at the sheep and determining which were in need of shearing. She could trade eggs to the loom man along with his usual deal for some of the wool. That should be bargain enough to have a winter shawl made for Grace.

Regina hesitated. Would Grace even still be here when winter set into the valley? The air in the evenings was beginning to nip. If Grace wanted to leave Book's Pass, she should do it now, or she'd have to wait until spring. Did the girl know this? Did she intend to leave? Regina realized she needed to answer those questions before she took her day any further.

Pulling off her nightgown, Regina took a linen shift from the squat drawers at the foot of her bed. She pulled a day dress, simple cotton dyed tan, on over that and tied on a darker tan cloth belt to accentuate her waist. She slipped her feet into brown soft leather calf boots.

"Marybelle?" She called out for one of the women who kept her kitchen. Regina looked in the woman's bedroom across from her own. Probably already downstairs. Regina walked to the end of the second floor corridor and reached out for the railing.

"Miss Regina?"

Regina turned to find Grace, in what she suspected was a borrowed nightgown, leaning out from another bedroom. Rachel's and Sally's, Regina knew. OK. So the girls readily had taken the runaway under their wings. The girl's bright blue eyes were still staring at Regina.

"Why don't you walk with me down to the kitchen. We have a great deal to discuss."

Regina smiled as the girl showed her youth by readily jumping into the corridor without taking the time to grab a dressing gown to cover herself. So young. Regina shook her head, but said nothing.

The girl walked behind Regina but she was quite the chatterbox.

"Miss Regina, I must thank you for helping me yesterday. I know that it wasn't well thought out of me, but it's just... Have you met Mr. Whale?" The girl made a sound, a cross between what one might make when surprised by a snake and when cleaning up vomit from the floors of a saloon. It made Regina bite her lip to prevent a chuckle from escaping.

"I have, my dear. And that is a rather... vivid reaction. Thankfully we are not yet eating."

Grace laughed. It was a pretty sound, all tinkling like bells. And appropriate to the carefree youth she was. Regina envied the child's innocence.

But that youth was to be short-lived now. Grace had several grown up decisions to make, in relatively short order. "While we eat, you can tell me what you wish to do next."

"I don't know."

"Do you intend to leave Book's Pass?"

"Can I stay here? I'm a hard worker."

They had entered the kitchen. Marybelle, who ruled here with Regina's blessing, sat in the corner by the hearth, stirring a pot with one hand while reading a book in the other.

"There's only one open position in my establishment, Grace, and you're not old enough for it yet."

"You don't have anything else I can do? I can run a house. I've been running my papa's for two years since Mama died."

"Those are useful skills, but I do not have a place for them here." Regina accepted a bowl of oatmeal from Marybelle. She passed the dish to Grace. She nodded to a drawer and the girl withdrew a spoon from the silver laid within.

"Then why'd you take me in?" Grace sat in a chair at the polished wood table. Regina took her own bowl from Marybelle and the spoon Grace held out and sat down beside her.

"Exactly as the gunslinger said, to give you space to make your own choices."

"She had gone when I came back downstairs," Grace said. "I wanted to thank her, too."

"I am sure the woman has already moved on, my dear. She didn't seem the type to stay anyplace very long."

Grace pouted then her expression cleared. She dove into her oatmeal. Regina poured a bit of honey from a small jar in the middle of the table. Taking an apple from the fruit bowl laden with them, she lifted her hand. Marybelle placed a paring knife in her palm. "Thank you, Marybelle."

"You're welcome, Miss Regina. There's fresh milk in the pitcher. Sammy brought it in from the guernsey."

"Thank you." Regina reached for the aforementioned pitcher as Marybelle brought two mugs to the table.

"Will there be anythin' else?"

"I can wash the dishes," Grace offered eagerly.

"Well then, there you have it. Go finish your book in the parlor, Marybelle. Miss Grace Jameson will do the dishes."

"Yes, Miss Regina."

"Do scribe a list of things you need. I'm making a trip to the general store when I come back from seeing to the shearing."

"Yes, Miss Regina." Following her words, Marybelle quit the kitchen leaving Regina and Grace alone eating their oatmeal.

"Shearing?" Grace asked.

"Yes, I also own a flock of 47 sheep."

"I could watch them for you."

Regina appreciated the girl's quick thinking. "I already have several girls do that in shifts." Grace's face fell. "However, until you do decide what to do, I suppose you could help out."

The bright smile returned to the girl's face and Regina frowned at herself as she turned her attention back to her breakfast. When they were finished, Regina left the girl washing the dishes and went to the parlor to get the list from Marybelle.

"Marybelle, do you have it?"

"On the table, ma'am," the woman said, not looking up from her paperback.

"What are you reading today?"

"A new one from Mr. Twain," she replied absently.

"Is it good?" Grace asked.

"I find it so," Marybelle replied.

Regina watched the interaction with detachment. "I'm going to take Grace with me to the shearing then the store."

"You going alone?" Marybelle asked.

Regina nodded. "Of course. Who else would I go with?"

"Visitor outside," Marybelle replied before retreating behind her book once more.

Regina stalked to the door. If it was Jameson, she'd get the shotgun, she vowed. Yanking the door open, she stormed onto the porch. "Miss Swan?" she blurted in surprise.

Emma Swan had made herself at home on the wood slats, feet kicked up on the railing with Regina's shotgun lain across her thighs. Her clothes were clean, and her boots were even shined from the usual trail dust. 

Feeling her blood boil, Regina snapped, "How long have you been out here?"

Swan looked up at her, hands still crossed over the shotgun stock and barrel.

"Long enough to assure your night remained quiet."

"Miss Swan, I do not need your protection. It is more likely I will have more trouble if it gets 'round I have a guard."

"Where're you headed this fine morning?" Emma unfolded to her feet, standing before Regina and glancing at Grace. "Good mornin' to you, Miss Grace."

"Miss Swan," Grace gushed. "You stayed! I wanted to thank you for yesterday."

"No problem, kid." Emma smiled at the girl then turned that smile on Regina.

"So where're you goin' today?"

Regina was disinclined to say, but Grace, silly girl, was guileless and excited. "We're going to shear the sheep!"

Emma looked to Regina for confirmation. Setting her jaw, Regina only looked at Grace. "Come along, dear."

Regina ignored Emma as she led Grace down the steps and into the street. There was a clatter and then footsteps followed. She glared over her shoulder, grabbed Grace's shoulders and steered her another way. "This way, dear." Over her shoulder she cast, "Not you, Miss Swan."

"Can I interest you in a bit of breakfast?" Emma replied, moseying as casual as you please, thumbs hanging from the loops of her denims.

"Grace and I have already eaten." Regina said nothing more, stalking away from Emma Swan and her proprietary looks. Grace was running after her to keep up. Once she reached the livery, Regina looked over her shoulder. Good, she thought, not seeing Emma Swan anywhere behind her.

"Miss Regina, what are you doing here?"

"Grace and I are going for a ride," she said, still looking around. "Would you saddle my horse?"

Ruby set aside the hay fork she'd had in her hands, leaning it against the livery wall, and disappeared inside the stable.

When her bay was led out, Regina lifted Grace into the saddle first then swung up behind her, riding astride with her split skirt. "Ready, dear?" Grace was holding onto the pommel with white knuckles, but she nodded vigorously.

Regina walked her horse down Main Street, looking this way and that as she held the girl before her on the saddle.

Mr. Carter, the blacksmith, stopped hammering and watched her pass. Mr. Innaker, the potter, stopped his wheel. Both men said nothing and went back to their work, casting their eyes quickly away. Regina was used to this treatment, the odd detente between seeing Regina as a woman and then remembering what business she had in their town.

Shaking off the melancholy, Regina turned her horse off the Main Street and told Grace to hold tightly. She geed her horse to a smooth loping gallop. Snug between her arms, Grace's anxiety soon gave way to breathless giggles.

Regina, too, was light of heart by the time she spotted the sheep herd milling on the lee side of a rocky outcropping. Vivian and Caroline leaned on crooked staffs in the shade of a large poplar. Both women looked up at the sound of hoofbeats. Their expressions were warm at first then to Regina's surprise turned consternated and wary. Vivian went to the red gingham covered pile nearby and came up shouldering the shotgun. "Miss Regina!" she said, and her voice held clear warning.

"Put down the gun, Vivian. It's just me. This is Grace."

"Get down," Vivian said. She hadn't lowered the shotgun.

Regina dismounted, pulling Grace down as Caroline came hurrying up. "Who's your shadow?" Caroline asked.

"My what?" Regina turned then and felt the heat rise fast and furious to her face. "Miss Swan!" she yelled, grabbing the shotgun from Vivian. "I told you to leave me alone."

Emma stopped her horse, remained mounted, and her gun remained holstered. The shotgun she'd taken from Regina's porch nowhere in sight. Wary but curious, Regina slowly lowered her shotgun.

"Why are you still here?" she demanded.

"May I dismount and trust you not to put a plug in my stomach?"

Regina directed with the barrel of the shotgun. "Toss your gun belt first."

"I'm no danger to you," Emma replied.

"I'll be the judge of what and what is not a danger to me and mine."

Emma slid from the back of her horse. It's name flitted through Regina's memory. Bug. The golden horse stepped away from Emma and began cropping at the grass.

Regina stared at Emma. "Why do you call him Bug?" She frowned at the curiosity which had seized control of her tongue.

Emma came closer and Regina found her gun barrel lowering, her arms acting on a will of their own.

"He was always bugging me for treats when he was a foal," Emma replied easily, conversationally.

"You've had him since he was a foal?"

Emma smiled. "Yeah."

Regina felt the heat of her anger recede from her chest. Under Emma Swan's steady regard, a faint smile playing at the corner of pale lips, the heat moved to Regina's cheeks. Unaccountably her stomach fluttered.

"So," Emma said, turning away to take in the other women and the sheep quietly cropping grass. "This is your flock?"

"Yes."

"You're a resourceful woman, Miss Regina."

"Thank you." Regina watched Vivian and Caroline stare between her and Emma Swan. "These are are Vivian and Caroline."

Emma nodded and smiled at both women. "Emma," she introduced herself.

Both women looked at Emma with awe, and a knot of frustration made Regina curt. "We'd better start the shearing. We don't have all day."

"We started separating the ewes," Vivian said.

"Good. Well..." Regina looked around. It would take her and Vivian all their attention to shear the sheep. "Grace, would you assist Caroline with herding?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Caroline took Grace under her right arm and walked toward the main body of the flock.

Regina resolutely ignored Emma Swan, turning her back on the woman to meet Vivian's curious gaze. "All right, let's get to work."

Regina felt Emma Swan's eyes on her as she worked, and it itched as much as the sweat that was soon pouring down her back from the strenuous task of wrestling a ewe between the two stakes and tying it in place. Vivian worked with one blade on the animal's right side while Regina worked on the left. A burlap bag took the clippings.

Regina knew the next sheep would fill the first bag and started looking around for the second bag.

Suddenly Emma Swan was holding a burlap sack outstretched and opened between her hands. "Here you go."

In her surprise, Regina lost her grip on the sheep and the straight razor slipped against her hand. "Ow!"

A tan bandanna was pulled tightly around her wrist where the blade had caught. She tried to pull her hand to her chest, but Emma Swan would not relinquish it. "Let me go!"

"Just hold on a sec." Emma's voice was calm, businesslike. Soothing. Regina growled. Emma chuckled. "I ain't wrestled anyone as contrary as you about takin' help, Regina. Just be still. I gotta see if you hit anything vital."

Regina looked down at her hand and wrist wrapped in the bandanna. The tan cloth was liberally stained with blood, her blood, and she felt her pulse throbbing in the other woman's grip. Her vision swam and she swayed. Emma's grabbed her and pulled her to a boulder nearby. "Sit," Emma said. Regina felt behind her with the other hand and gradually lowered to the stone surface.

The bandanna was gingerly pulled away and Emma poked and prodded the skin. Finally she declared, "A nick only. It's already stopped bleeding."

"I have bandages in my saddlebags," Regina said, her head lowered between her shoulders, trying to recover from her near faint. And truthfully, to keep from looking at Swan and seeing an "I told you so" expression.

"All right." Emma's touch vanished and Regina found herself lifting her head enough to follow boots walking across the ground. She heard a whistle and then hoofbeats. Golden legs stopped alongside dusty denim, and Regina heard the slap and pull of leather straps as Emma opened her saddlebags.

Clean white cloth pressed to Regina's damaged wrist, and then whiskey splashed the torn skin. A helpless gasp escaped Regina's lips at the pain, then a different clean white cloth was gently wrapped around her wrist and efficiently tied off in a little knot. Regina stared at the knotted cloth, not reacting as Emma Swan stepped away.

A handkerchief appeared under her nose. Regina looked up at Emma as she took it. "For your face," Emma said quietly. Regina was suddenly very aware of the tear tracks beginning to dry on her cheeks.

Regina rubbed her cheeks and dabbed at her eyes, then she squared her shoulders and stood. She felt Emma's eyes on her but turned instead to Vivian. "Let's finish things, shall we?"

"Yes, ma'am."

As Regina returned to shearing, Emma Swan settled on the boulder and Regina couldn't help but glance frequently over as the woman idly stroked her golden horse's head, eyes scanning this way and that, watching over the area. A self-appointed guard.

###


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Emma circle around each other, curious but trying not to get too close.

By midday, even exuberant Grace was exhausted. The girl constantly had circulated between Caroline, Vivian and Regina, and Emma filled with curious questions. Each time Emma stood from her perch, behavior Regina classified as 'gentlemanly', she patiently explained something different about her attire, her horse, or her weapons.

So close by, and since distracting herself from the smells of the sheep's wool wasn't completely accomplished with the chatter from Vivian, Regina found herself listening to these little tidbits of the life and ways of the gunslinger. Emma referred to the work she did as "bounty hunting." She also said she'd never had to kill anyone, though she had nearly lost her own life twice. Grace's gasp had covered Regina's own at this point. On another visit from the curious girl, Emma described her Colt Frontier .45 as a gift, and but the knife from her boot as a trophy.

Beyond learning again the origin of Bug's name, Regina also overheard Emma tell Grace about bedding down in the Sonoran Desert and Bug smashing a "rattler long as a rifle" beneath his hooves before it could strike. That had been, Emma confessed to Grace, one of the two times she'd almost lost her life. Grace had oohed as expected; Regina's curiosity had grown. She couldn't help wondering what had happened the other time?

Finally, sweat-soaked, Regina waved at Vivian over the last ewe, her signal to desist. The woman nodded gratefully, used her forearm to wiped her brow, and fetched a canteen from among the gingham-covered supplies keeping relatively cool in the shade of a rock shelf about six feet off the ground.

Regina strode to her horse, calling to Grace and Caroline as she untied her canteen from beneath a saddle flap. "Break time," she said. "Grace, come drink some water before we head back."

The sand rustled behind Regina. Studiously she ignored the approach of Emma Swan despite the fact that she could feel the blonde woman approaching as though a wave of heat preceded her. It warmed her back, then her belly, and finally her stomach flipped. She splashed water from the canteen on the back of her neck and took a healthy swallow from the open spout. Grace accepted the canteen and drank heartily while Regina splashed a bit of water on the back of the girl's neck as well. "Time to go," she repeated to the girl.

"I could stay," Grace said. "I can help."

Regina hesitated, but Caroline approached and, after a nod to Regina, spoke. "We always can use another set of willing hands. I can send her back with Vivian for supper." Caroline settled a companionable hand on Grace's shoulder.

Regina took the two bags of wool from Vivian who had tied each at the top with several loops of rope. They were ridiculously heavy and Regina felt her back twinge as she accepted the weight.

Straining, she dropped one before lifting the other up until she could tie the remaining length of rope to a buckle on her saddle. Suddenly the heft was less strenuous, and Regina turned to find Emma Swan standing inches away, both arms engaged in lifting the bag from below.

The other woman made no sound while Regina finished securing the bag, causing the saddle to lean hard to the weighted side.

Regina stifled her exhalation as she picked up the second bag and waddled with to the other side of her horse. Emma was there, again, without a word, lifting it to make the tying go much more quickly.

The saddle adjusted back to the center with the equally balanced weight. Regina lifted her body onto the saddle and turned her horse back to town.

She was dozens of lengths away when she realized she had neglected to say goodbye to Vivian and Caroline as was normal. A turn in the saddle found Emma Swan following on her steed, lazy a pace as you please.

Regina snapped her gaze forward, resolute to ignore the gunslinger. However, her shadow continued to follow at an unsettling distance that was both too close and too far away for Regina's comfort, the sounds of their horses' hooves slapping against the earth breaking the monotonous silence.

* * *

Regina rode back to Book's Pass Livery and swung down inside the barn. She growled at Ruby Lucas when the woman offered to see to her horse. Regina's frustration had mounted over the miles to town, Emma Swan's green gaze a heat against her spine and neck. She felt vulnerable and out of control. Taking off the bridle, Regina tied the lead rope to his halter and secured to the peg over the stall trough. While he nosed through the water, light puffs of air the only sign she had been pushing him hard the last mile, Regina unbelted his saddle and slipped it from his back, before tossing it over the top railing of the stall. The metal of her stirrups banged against the wood and it sounded as angry as she felt. Grimly she smiled before retrieving the brush from the outside rack. A glance around found her alone and she minutely exhaled. She stepped out the back to the handpump and filled two buckets full of water before returning to her horse's side.

He eyed her gratefully while she dumped the buckets into the trough. She patted his neck and started brushing his coat, short strokes forward, then long strokes back, conditioning it.

She was working down his foreleg, about to lift his hoof into her hands to examine the frog and check the shoe and nail, when she felt warmth return to her neck. She straightened rigidly, squeezing her hands into fists at her sides, and whirled. "Miss Swan! Kindly -"

Her words died in her throat. Ruby Lucas stood in the stall opening, holding out a jug to the full length of her arms, and they were shaking. The young woman's eyes were wide, the whites startling in contrast to her tanned skin. She watched Regina closely, uncertainly, as though Regina was a bobcat as likely to use its claws as retreat.

Regina's ire had nowhere to go, and the drain of it left her body weak and shaking. She stumbled to the wall and laid her head against it. "Miss Lucas," she said, her voice shaking.

"It's just water," Ruby said and her voice wasn't quite steady either. "Thought you might want some."

Regina took the jug and lifted the opening to her mouth, drinking several swallows before returning it. "I... I apologize. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Regina stepped out of the stall, dropping the cross bar into place. She looked up and down the line of stalls.

"She's not here," Ruby said. "She was behind you when you entered the livery, but turned her horse's head to the south when you came inside."

Regina nodded, too tired to deny that she had been searching for Emma Swan. South. A strange taint emerged in her mouth, bitter. South was the way out of town. So Emma Swan was finally leaving Book's Pass.

"I must be getting home," she murmured, her throat surprisingly tight.

"You have a nice afternoon, Miss Regina."

* * *

Emma Swan leaned against the wall in the shadows of the General Store porch, eyes spying on Miss Regina conversing with Ruby Lucas in front of the livery at the other end of the street. The two dark-haired women were as different as night and day. Ruby was all gangly and youthful eagerness, bare elbows and knees with her short overalls, and midnight black hair hanging in a braid down her back. Regina, on the other hand, drew Emma's attention with an air of reserve as dark and varied as the browns in the woman's hair pinned up artfully, if a bit raggedly now after the morning's work. The dress, though clearly well-sewn at the hands of a skilled seamstress, was function more than fashion. And it showed the curves of a mature woman's figure.

Regina's chin was tight, the jaw squared, a dare to the world to deny her a place in it. Brown eyes looked briefly toward the General Store and Emma held her breath, freezing in place, not wanting to be seen.

Whatever thought then crossed Regina's face brought with it lowered lids and rounded shoulders. Sadness, Emma read far too easily. The sight of it affected her, as everything about Miss Regina Mills had affected Emma Swan since that first meeting on the porch of the woman's establishment.

Her gaze followed the woman until she had walked out of sight down the street leading to the brothel.

###


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday morning, Lord's Day, in Book's Pass. Emma meets a few more townsfolk before she encounters Regina once again. Thanks continue to Fictorium for the beta looks.

Ruby Lucas almost dropped the plates she carried from the kitchen to the small dining room where she and her grandmother planned to take their morning meal. Sitting near a window, Emma Swan turned at the ominous clattering.

The blonde woman was dressed in a snug fitting, green plaid flannel shirt. She wore suspenders over each shoulder and the shirt's sleeves were rolled to her elbows. Ruby had previously admired the woman's strength watching her on horseback, but presented with it cleaned up and with an easy, welcoming smile like now, made Ruby feel like swooning. And she never swooned.

Setting down the plates, Ruby said, "I thought you'd left."

"Bug likes the treats you snuck him yesterday." Emma shrugged and continued to smile, but there was something tense about her close up. Ruby noticed she kept glancing to the window.

Ruby started to ask if Emma wanted something to eat when the woman pulled a plate across the table and plucked fork from her hand. "I take it, you're stayin'." She heard footsteps and turned to see her grandmother emerging from the kitchen. "We need another plate. Seems we still have a let room."

Gray-white hair tidily in a bun at her nape, Ruby's grandmother, Eugenia Lucas, paused in the act of wiping her hands on a linen. "Miss Swan," she greeted. "I would be put out if you hadn't already paid the room for a week."

"My... business can make my hours unpredictable," Emma said. She'd been out to the stagecoach office already checking with the telegraph office about noise on the wires.

Eugenia sat and shooed Ruby back to the kitchen as she took the remaining plate on the table for herself. She studied the blonde who had returned to eating in silence. "What's your business in Book's Pass?"

"Just passing through."

"I know you followed Grace and Regina out to the sheep herd and back in yesterday. Only you turned south 'stead of comin' in for the night."

Emma cocked her head to the side but didn't lift her eyes, only lifting a forkful of eggs to her mouth. She made a sound of appreciation as she chewed and swallowed.

"Them's her eggs," Eugenia said.

"Hmm?"

"The eggs you're eatin'. Come from Miss Regina's chickens."

Speaking around a mouthful, Emma said, "In'erestin'," not sounding really interested at all.

"I believe in givin' thanks where 'tis due," Eugenia replied, taking a bite of the eggs herself.

"Just so," Emma said. "And the bacon?"

"Lemulson hog."

"Be sure to pass along my compliments."

"I c'n do that." Eugenia went on. "You looked out for Grace t'other night."

"Who?"

"The girl Regina took in?"

"Oh. Yeah."

Eugenia's brow knit close. "I'm gonna ask you a question, Miss Emma, and I want you to answer true."

Green eyes glanced up but then quickly lowered again. Eugenia waited, expecting a denial. Emma finished her eggs. Then she wiped her mouth with the napkin cloth, before setting it on the table under her fist.

"There's a mountain of worry behind a request like that," Emma finally said. "And shoulders should never be bowed by such things." Emma nodded. "Ask your question, Widow Lucas."

The choice of address threw Eugenia and she asked, "Where'd you learn I was a widow?"

"Aren't you?" Emma smiled. "You wear a wedding band on a chain round your neck. You have a granddaughter, so you must have had a daughter, by birth or marriage. You have a fine couple of businesses here, but a man would have established it. Such is the way of these parts."

Emma stood.

"Where're you goin'? I haven't asked my question yet."

"On the contrary, you have now asked two. I shall answer the second as true as the first. I am going to the general store to buy a hat." Emma bowed like a man, at the waist, and left the breakfast room of the inn.

Eugenia shook her head in disbelief at being outwitted. She was standing up to collect the plates when Ruby emerged from the kitchen. They both turned at the sound of boots on the steps outside.

"Where's Emma goin'?" Ruby asked.

"Gen'ral store."

"But it's Sunday." Ruby raised her eyebrow. She followed Eugenia into the kitchen where they began to clean up from their meal.

"I don't think that'll make no never mind to Miss Swan. And you know George'll open to anyone with cash, no matter it's the Lord's Day." Eugenia chuckled and shook her head again. That Emma Swan was a wily one and determined too.

###

Half an hour later, Emma Swan emerged from the general store with a brand new dark brown leather hat on her head. Its wide brim shadowed her eyes from view, and she held a box of goods under one arm. She made her way down the street walking jauntily in the warmth from the early morning sun.

The general store owner, George Mead, watched the peculiar woman go, counting the stack of crisp bank notes she had pressed into his hand "for his finest quality hat." The only other person to spend so much cash on a single item had been Jameson when he bought the wedding dress his daughter had decided she wouldn't use.

Emma Swan hadn't blustered about the price like Jameson. She had also purchased a variety of other things. Mead was hoping she'd enter his establishment again soon. Fine upstanding customers like that kept a man happy in his business.

He stepped back inside, closing and locking his door. A closed sign rattled against the pane. Time for church.

###

Regina sat at the head of the long table watching everyone else eat as she sipped her sweet apple juice. Grace sat between Caroline and Areliz, who had loaned the girl a frock for the day. When she fled her father's house, Grace hadn't taken more than the clothes on her back, not thinking things through much.

The girl was so young, Regina lamented. What on earth could she realistically do? She'd done all the schooling a place like Book's Pass deemed necessary for a female. Marriage, as her father had planned, was typical at this age, but Regina wouldn't suggest it. Unless... Maybe there was already a boy. "Grace?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am?" Grace promptly looked up from her bowl.

"Is there someone you hope to see at church today?"

"I... didn't ... I can go to church with you?"

"Of course," Regina said.

"I've never... Are you going, Miss Regina?"

"No, dear, I'll have a lovely lunch ready for when you return."

"C'mon," Areliz said suddenly at the sound of a click striking the hour in the parlor. She wiped her face and tossed down her napkin. "Time to go."

Regina remained seated as the table was vacated. Once everyone was gone and she no longer heard the commotion of the girls in the parlor, Regina rose slowly from her seat. Methodically she moved around the table gathering the bowls and silver, stacking each on the tray that had been used to carry the food out from the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen she took the hot water pot from the iron stovetop and slowly poured it over the dishes in the washtub. Plunging her hands with the washrag into the scalding water, Regina welcomed the tears to her eyes.

She was only on the second bowl when she heard knocking. It didn't sound like the front door. She looked around the kitchen then out the window toward the chicken coops. Her gaze met green eyes that widened and disappeared. The back door slammed against the inside wall when Emma Swan kicked it in.

A foot and a box came into sight first. The box landed with a thump as did the foot. The foot was followed by a big lean body topped by an unfamilar brown hat and familiar blond hair. "Miss Swan!"

"What happened?" Emma demanded. "Why are you crying?" The blonde rushed toward Regina.

Regina stood her ground and anger quickly heated her face and dried her tears. "You kicked in my door!"

"What's wrong?"

"What is wrong with you! What are you doing here?" Regina asked, bewildered. "I thought you'd left?"

"I bought some things for Grace," Emma said, retreating to pick up the box from the floor where she had dropped it.

"Grace? She's left for church with the other girls."

"You have girls who go to church?"

"Yes, they do."

"Here in Book's Pass?"

"No, they go to next town over, a half day away - of course here!"

"And the men? They don't bother 'em?"

"Would you bother another woman if your wife was sitting right beside you in a church pew?"

"What about the reverend?"

"He's more likely to chastise the men for their drinking and gambling than their... trysts."

"What about Grace? Was the reverend here the other night? What's he think about the girl? Does Jameson go to church?"

Regina hesitated. She hadn't considered that. Her expression must have alarmed Emma because the blonde suddenly grabbed her hand and ran for the door. "C'mon!"

Regina's heart thudded painfully against her ribcage, and she tried to wrest free of Emma's far too warm and comforting grip. The sensation of it made her stomach flip. "Let me go!"

"I threw a hundred bucks at that man to keep Grace safe. You took her into your home. We have a responsibility now." Emma wouldn't release Regina's hand as they ran down the street.

###


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a confrontation at the church. Afterward Regina's terrified though, of what exactly, Emma can only guess.

Emma and Regina ran to the building which served Book's Pass a church and meeting hall, drawing up when they recognized the impact of what they are about to do. They faced a sea of wagons and a few horses. But they knew, like themselves, even more people came on foot. The building was going to be packed.

Regina held her free hand to her chest, and she breathed deeply, the run having winded her. Emma bit her lip at the sight. She herself hadn't set a foot in a prayer meeting in years.

She squared her shoulders. But Grace and Jameson were in there, and Emma had an obligation. She stepped forward, putting a booted foot on the first step up into the church. She felt a tug on her arm and looked down to see Regina still held her hand.

"Are you sure we really need to do this?" Regina asked. "Certainly no one is going to hurt Grace while the pastor's watching."

Following the arm back and up, she met widening brown eyes. When was the last time Regina had entered a church? Emma rubbed her thumb over the back of the hand in her own. Regina bit her lower lip. The sight made Emma consider an action both brave and foolish and she stared at Regina's beleaguered lip, her tongue coming out to wet her own.

Her intention must have shown in her face because Regina's cheeks filled with ruddy color before she pushed her shoulders back under Emma's continued regard. "Miss Swan, I believe you and I have a responsibility awaiting us inside."

Emma's lips turned up in a pride-filled grin at the words.  _Pride goeth before a fall_ , she quoted to herself and managed to douse her expression, keeping Regina's hand in hers. She pulled Regina up the steps to join her and held the door for the other woman to enter first, removing her new hat with a quick pull.

Regina's hand slipped from hers in the action of passing through the door and her body tantalized Emma's with its close and inviting heat. Emma inhaled in surprise which filled her lungs with the woman's scent, a mixture of soap and apples. She exhaled slowly, trying to hold the scents close, and followed Regina inside the entry space.

They stopped before the double doors leading to the actual meeting room. Just as Emma reached for the door a deep voice rumbled through the tiny opening and made her stop mid-motion.

"... and He chastised them saying do not hold back the innocent. For all of my Father's kingdom shall belong to them who are pure of heart and loving all."

Emma glanced at Regina and saw the brunette's throat move in a girding swallow. All right, Emma thought, as she heard feet shuffling. If everyone was getting to their feet, the two of them could slip into the back unnoticed.

But they had obviously miscalculated how long these folk spent at their Sunday prayers. This was no intermediate hymn. Emma opened the door only to sweep Regina behind her with a broad hand across the woman's chest. Four wide, the entire population of Book's Pass seemed intent to run them down.

Social chatter filled the air, at first. Then someone recognized Emma standing against the door. "Gunslinger," she heard the whisper moving from one woman to the next. A few men snapped their gazes to her when they overheard the womenfolk. Emma said nothing and kept Regina behind her with a warning squeeze. She hoped the brunette remained silent as well.

Almost as abruptly as the foyer filled, it emptied into the yard, leaving Emma and Regina feeling as though they had been in the midst of a cattle stampede. Regina's chest, pressed against Emma's back, pounded a frantic rhythm. Emma hadn't seen Grace, though she had glimpsed several of the women from the brothel in the sea of humanity flowing from the church pews.

Regina pulled herself around Emma and charged into the sanctuary. Emma stayed right on her heel. They both let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Grace seated in a pew with Areliz's arm wrapped around her shoulders. Both had their heads bowed. The sudden sound of a sob drove both Emma and Regina forward in a rush. "Areliz," Regina demanded, coming alongside the two in their pew. "What happened?"

Areliz's head jerked up in surprise. "Oh, Miss Regina, 'tis a'right. Miss Grace havin' a bit o' 'motions seein' her padre."

Emma leaned forward. "You sure?"

"He scowled somethin' fierce, but he done nothing."

"We're here to see that continues," Regina said. "Now, come along. We'll go home for luncheon." She pulled Grace into her arms as she helped her out of the pew. With Emma and Areliz flanking the two, Regina walked the sniffling Grace out of the church. The girl pressed Regina's silk handkerchief to her eyes as the foursome emerged into the noon sun.

Emma slapped her hat back on her head, and Regina and Areliz tugged their bonnets over their hair. Regina's hand squeezed Grace's shoulder as all their eyes came up and they looked out on a sea of eyes staring back at them.

It's the scene from the brothel porch all over again, Emma thought. She spotted Jameson reacting to another man's pointing, no doubt informing him his daughter was present. The cattle rancher had one foot on the running board of his wagon and the other still on the ground. In a trice he turned around and stomped toward them.

"Good Sunday to you, Mr. Jameson," Emma tried for a civil intervention, stepping between his glower and Regina and his daughter. "Lord's rest be with you."

His jaw dropped when he turned from his daughter to face Emma instead. "Stay out of my way, Swan."

She nodded agreeably. "You turn 'round right now and walk back to your wagon and I won't cross your path." She reached out and nudged Regina's hip, indicating the woman should precede her with Grace down the steps.

Jameson stared at Grace; the girl hesitated and glanced up at him. Their expressions were both pained. Regina's hand lifted from the girl's shoulder. "Daddy," Grace began.

"Yes, baby girl?" His voice was so full of hope, Emma almost expected his face to redden and his eyes to gloss.

"Good Sunday to you," she said after another moment searching his eyes. Then she turned her back on him and walked away.

Jameson launched himself at Regina who turned to follow Grace. His hand caught the brunette's shoulder, near-strangling her with the bonnet ties as it tangled against her throat. Regina cried out, pulling at the bonnet ties and trying to gasp for breath at the same time. Emma wrenched Jameson away from Regina and the woman fell to the ground. Areliz and Grace bent immediately to help her. But Emma saw red. She kicked out a foot and threw her arm into Jameson's chest, knocking him over her leg. He landed on his back, dirt puffing up around his body on impact. She had her gun drawn and aimed at his chest before he could catch his breath or draw his own gun from where it sat on his hip; she saw his fingers inching toward it.

"Mr. Jameson, it's Sunday and I would have thought you a man to refrain from violence on a holy day. Perhaps you need to return inside and continue your prayers."

She twitched her thumb as if to cock her gun. His eyes widened and grimly she smiled at his fear.  _That's right. I ain't no saint._  Flashing behind her mind's eye was Regina going down to her knees, choking under his grip; her cry of alarm ringing in Emma's ears. Emma waited a beat and then leaned back finger moving away from the hammer slowly, before returning the gun to her holster.

"Good day, Mr. Jameson." Emma turned her back on him and gathered the women before her, nudging Areliz ahead with Grace while she walked shoulder to shoulder with Regina behind them. The other women from the brothel gradually join them and the group, Emma as their rear guard, left the property without looking back.

Emma turned her gaze back briefly when she turned a corner and witnessed Jameson mangling his hat in his fists as the preacher talked with him.

* * *

Regina and Emma fell further and further behind the other women. Regina was silent. Emma could sense the brunette's anger because her steps grew firmer until she was stomping. The sight made Emma's lips twitch in amusement. Her gaze was so enthralled with Regina Mills, she didn't realize they were completely alone in the shadow of a building until Regina threw her against the wall. Emma's reflexes reacted to the threat before her brain reminded her it was Regina and she jammed her forearm into a throat and made the other woman gag when she twisted and slammed the brunette into the wall.

"Regina!" Emma's voice filled with surprise. "What in God's name?" She threw her arms away and down, backing away from the brunette.

Rubbing her throat, Regina winced; Emma winced, too. She hadn't meant to hit the woman so hard, damn her instincts. Regina found her voice. "You must leave. Right now."

"I'm sorry I hurt you. But you can't attack someone like me without warning, Regina."

"Better me than Jameson in the dark of night!"

"Jameson will never get the drop on me," Emma assured. "Are you sure you're all right?" Regina was still rubbing her throat.

"Get away from me!" Regina pushed at Emma, but instead of falling back, Emma grasped her forearms and held them both in place.

I'm not leaving, Regina, not until Jameson understands a woman's life is her own."

"He won't stop coming after Grace unless you leave."

"You can't know that."

"You have embarrassed him twice now in front of the entire town. He's going to kill you."

"No, he won't."

"He will!" Regina's outburst startled Emma enough that she stumbled from Regina's lunge. But Emma was still quicker and once again grabbed her hands and held the brunette in place before her. "Let me go!"

"No." The brunette struggled against Emma's hold and Emma finally pressed full length against her to calm her wrestling. Faces inches apart, Emma felt Regina's breath, harsh and shortened. The brown eyes were rapidly shifting from angry to scared.

Her instinct to comfort this woman driving her, Emma leaned in closer and Regina's eyes widened. She brushed her cheek against the brunette's and caught some of the silken dark hair against her lips. "Regina," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She wrapped her arms around Regina's back.

Fists trapped and fidgeting against Emma's chest between them, Regina whispered, "He'll kill you. He will." Fear trickled through Regina's words.

"He won't." Emma's lips brushed against Regina's ear and she felt the brunette shudder in her arms. "I'll protect Grace. I'll protect you." At the same time she said it, Emma acknowledged she would welcome killing Jameson, but not for Grace. It would be because he hurt Regina.

"Stop. Please. Stop. You need to stop defending me. I'm not worth it." Regina's words fell onto Emma's shoulder, where the brunette was pressing her mouth, trying to stem the fear-filled words.

Emma put her hands to either side of Regina's head, lifting her face between her palms. "What idiot told you that?"

"Why must you endanger yourself opposing that man?" Regina asked instead of answering.

"I asked you a question first, Regina Mills. What idiot said you were not worth defending?"

"I know what I am, Miss Swan. I will not allow someone else to die defending me. If you will not leave alone, I will see that Grace is packed and can leave with you tonight."

Emma frowned. In her puzzlement, she backed away from Regina. Regina pulled at her dress in various places, resettling it into neat lines. Automatically mirroring the action, Emma tugged her vest into place. She paused with her hand on her belt. "Someone else?"

Regina ignored her and walked away; Emma stared after her, drinking in the lines of the woman who seemed determined to push her away with every increasing stride. The silence seemed brittle; Emma knew she was guessing rightly even as she asked, "Regina, who died defending you?"

The brunette didn't answer, but her shoulders stiffened as if she'd been struck a blow. Knowing she would get no further with direct questioning, Emma strode quickly for the inn. One of the Lucas women had to know the story.

###


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma learns a bit more about Regina's history and, finally, the tension sparks between Regina and Emma.

Regina was still shaking when she finally entered the house. Her hands could barely keep the coat aligned with the hook inside the dressing closet where she was trying to put it away. Fretting and pacing, she fought to open the stays on her gown. A button snagging in the cloth was followed by a tiny plink as Regina's shaking hands were unable to calm long enough for rational thinking to prevail. With an immediacy that frightened her, Regina recalled Emma Swan's body pressed against hers, the heat, the physical presence of the woman so thoroughly overwhelming her every sense.

Green eyes had made Regina feel dizzy, almost drunk as her head spun. She had wanted to put her head on Emma Swan's broad shoulder and sink into the comfort so willingly being offered. But Regina understood one crucial thing it seems Emma Swan willingly overlooked: Regina Mills is no lady. She had given that up long ago, the moment she provided company to a lonely broken Southern soldier who had come west after the War.

Daniel had loved her though he'd been a gentleman and not her lover. She would have accepted any name to be with him though he had said marriage was beyond his means. He had been determined to defend her honor against Jameson. Regina had tried to stop the duel only to arrive just in time to watch Daniel fall with the bloody hole in his chest. The palest orange light of a summer sunrise painted his crumpled body bleeding onto the packed dirt of the street.

Regina leaned hard on the bedroom wall, squeezing her eyes shut to blot out the memory as it assailed her. Ten years had passed since Daniel's death . The pain was fully refreshed, as piercing now as it had been that morning on her knees in the street, lifting his head onto her lap, tears flowing hotly down her cheeks.

 _Damn you, Emma Swan,_  Regina thought, wiping hard at the tears that fell once again, fearing history was about to repeat itself.

* * *

 

Emma strode into the livery barn where she found Ruby Lucas brushing down the thick-legged cart horse she and her grandmother had used to ride to church that morning. The dappled gray horse was old with rheumy eyes, but quality, and looked to be in otherwise good health as it nosed Ruby's back while the brunette girl brushed over gray speckled hindquarters.

"Hey, Ruby," Emma called. The horse snorted, slapping Ruby's back with its muzzle and Emma winced sympathetically as Ruby turned around abruptly. "Sorry," Emma apologized.

"Emma!" Ruby dropped the brush and stepped quickly away from the horse, exiting the stall and lowering the cross beam into place before she came to meet Emma in the middle of the barn. "Couldn't believe what you did today."

"You going to tell me I'm stupid for what I did, too?"

"No! Shoot. You ain't smart, but I think what you're doin' for Grace is brave. You oughta have a badge. You got that justice mind, y'know? Things just is right or wrong, and that's sore needed 'round here."

Emma frowned. She was nothing even close to a lawman. She'd known some good ones and there was no way she'd put herself in the same class. "Anyway, I have a question about something I learned. You got time to talk?"

Ruby smiled and put down the brush in her hands before taking Emma's arm. "Whatcha need to know?"

Emma followed Ruby toward the inn. She adjusted the brim of her hat and shaded her eyes from the sun and, truth told, from close scrutiny by Ruby. She was certain her emotions would become apparent to the quick-witted girl if she was too visible.

"Jameson's a real cuss around here. Seems in charge though. How'd that happen?"

Ruby easily replied. "I know he's got the largest property in the area. And he employs the most hands when it's time to take the cattle to the railhead in St Louis. So lots of people owe him for the food they put on their tables."

"What about Regina?"

They had stepped onto the front porch of the big house where Eugenia Lucas was sweeping the dirt and dust from the wood slats. It wasn't Emma's imagination, though, that Eugenia stopped sweeping when Emma finished her question.

Ruby replied, oblivious to her grandmother's reaction. "Regina's been here as long as Jameson. But the real chill was some ten years ago. There were a lot of folks traveling through here after the war. Some lookin' to stay, some jus' passin' through. Regina's house," Ruby added after a pause, "saw a lot of business."

Emma watched out of the corner of her eye as Eugenia Lucas appeared to "stumble" and rapped the broom on the wall nearby. Ruby jumped. "Granny?" the girl asked. "You okay?"

"Yes, dear," Granny shook herself as if checking for damage. "Would you take this inside and get started on peeling the potatoes for supper?"

Emma straightened as Ruby walked past her, taking the broom from her grandmother's hands and disappearing inside the inn. She unfolded her arms and started toward the stairs leading to the rented rooms. A wrinkled hand latched onto her arm. She turned to meet piercing brown eyes.

"You really don' wan' t'be meddlin' in things that ain't none o' yer affair, Miss Emma Swan."

"What happened between Jameson and Regina ten years ago, Eugenia?" Emma asked bluntly.

"What's the use of the past?" Eugenia replied. "It's the past."

"Those who know not history are doomed to repeat it," Emma quoted.

"Yer a strange mix of brains and stupid, Miss Emma," Eugenia summarized succinctly.

"So humor my stupidity. What happened between Jameson and Regina ten years ago?"

"Would you kill for someone you loved?" Eugenia asked instead.

"I have," Emma replied quietly.

Eugenia's lips pursed at the answer, but she asked her next question anyway. "Would you die for someone you loved?"

Emma frowned. "So, it's true. Regina said someone died protecting her. I can only presume Jameson killed that person. Who was it?"

"Daniel." Eugenia breathed the name with reverence and Emma instantly knew the measure of the man who had died for Regina Mills. Only a paragon of human kindness would have elicited that sort of reaction from the bristly old woman. "He worked here in the stables. He'd been a soldier in the war. Wanted only peace after losing everything else."

Emma leaned back hard on her hands against the railing around the edge of the porch and stared at Eugenia. "Daniel?" she repeated the name.

"He was a young man. The war made him old though. He'd been part of Grant's troops in Virginia."

"A northerner then." Emma bit her lip. "You said he worked with the horses. Where was he from?"

"He never said. But he was good with the stock, had a real touch with them. So he weren't no city-bred."

Emma nodded. "Coulda picked it up in the army."

"Not this'un," Eugenia replied. "He was some kind of whisperer. That's how he and Miss Regina first met. Her horse had thrown a shoe, hobbling something awful. She'd been trying to get close enough to him to fix things, but it was kicking out in pain. She'd taken a hoof to the head when Daniel found her."

"He came when she screamed?"

"Nah, you gotta know by now Miss Regina ain't no screamer, at least that I never heard."

Emma nodded. As many times as she had seen Regina Mills threatened with harm, the woman had not once called out for help. "Stubborn," she muttered.

"Just a tad." Eugenia chuckled. "No, he stopped her from charging forward again, and instead, grabbed the reins and calmed that beast in about three seconds, looking into its eyes and stroking its neck. He pulled the broken shoe and bent nails."

"Definitely sounds like a gift," Emma said.

"He was a gift to this whole town in so many ways," Eugenia said. "He took a special liking to Miss Regina, however."

"So why didn't she marry him?" Emma wondered.

"I think she would have, but he didn't offer, least as far as I know."

"He didn't? How could he call himself a man? He just slept with her."

"Never touched her," Eugenia said. "Least as far as…"

"He never?" Emma blinked. "Not once?"

"Well, it's not like I spent any real time with Miss Regina. She don' let many people close 'nuf. But, yeah, most of us is pretty sure."

"So I still don't get it. What's Jameson's beef with Regina?"

"Daniel dueled him for her honor."

"And Jameson killed Daniel."

"Yes. No one has ever forgiven him for that."

"Jameson hates Regina because everyone hates him?" Emma shook her head in disbelief. "That's fucked up."

"A man's pride ain' always a rational thing."

Emma fretted.  _And neither is a woman's_. She thought of Regina's pained expression but stubborn silence at Emma's question. She obviously believed she had gotten Daniel killed. But a man's choices were always his own, Emma knew firsthand.

"What's goin' on in that head o' yours?" Eugenia asked.

"I have no idea how to fix this," Emma said. "She just takes it and takes it."

Eugenia nodded. "Been ten years."

"But it's not her fault!" Emma blurted. "Why doesn't she see that?"

"Blinded by love," Eugenia ventured. "I don't ascribe many girlish traits to Miss Regina. Maybe I'm readin' it all wrong and she didn't love Daniel." Eugenia shook her head. "But if she did, it would explain a lot."

Emma's heart squeezed tightly in her chest. Pain filled her voice as she said, "Yeah, yeah, it does."

* * *

 

Grace looked up from the sink where she was up to her elbows in suds. Miss Regina had been silent for several minutes standing beside her and looking out to the yard through the curtained window. "Miss Regina?"

The brunette shook herself. "Yes, Grace?"

"You don't have to stay with me. I'll finish this."

"You tire of my company already?" Regina said.

"No, no. I…I just can do this. You should relax. It's Sunday."

"Watching you wash dishes isn't work."

Grace chuckled, pleased the older woman smiled as she said that. "What if I asked you to dry?"

Miss Regina's smile widened and she grabbed the towel, taking a dish, patting it dry, and placing it in the cabinet. They worked together for several minutes in companionable silence except for the sounds of dishes clinking.

"Why did you come here?" Grace was surprised by the question. "You know what happens here."

Grace nodded. "I knew you'd help me."

"Your father and I don't get along."

"Exactly," Grace replied. "I -"

She was interrupted by a strong knocking on a door. She looked around. And then realized that Regina's gaze was riveted to the window. A shadowed figure - the porch lanterns had long ago been blown out for the night - stood by the kitchen door only a few feet away. Her breath hitched.

"Miss Regina?"

"Go," the older woman said firmly, putting a hand on Grace's shoulder as she pressed the towel into her hands. The woman's brown eyes darted toward a cabinet before returning to the door, and Grace wondered what Regina thought was there.

The figure moved, and Grace heard Regina's gasp over her own. Now framed in the light from the kitchen lanterns was Emma Swan. Standing at Miss Regina's back door like a thief in the night.

Glancing at Miss Regina's face, Grace saw the surprise quickly replaced by fear, then anger tightened the woman's features.

Grace was excited to see her savior, however, and rushed to the door, flinging it wide. "Emma!"

"Grace!" Miss Regina said loudly behind her.

Emma Swan then stepped through the doorway, an imposing figure in the same well-worn but clean denims and plaid shirt she'd been wearing at the church that morning. The hat on her head immediately came down in her hand.

"Grace," Emma said with a nod toward her. "How are you?"

Miss Regina stepped to Grace's shoulder, laying a hand over it. "Miss Swan, it is far too late for callers."

"I came to see how y...you are doing," Emma said quickly averting her gaze from Miss Regina's face to Grace's. "So, how are you?"

Grace felt Miss Regina's fingers tighten on her shoulder. But her eyes were only for Emma. The blond woman stood like a fairytale knight, hat in hand, green gaze meeting Grace's intently. "I'm good. I was just doing the dishes for Miss Regina."

Emma nodded in clear approval. "Good." Grace straightened under the smile and swept at the fabric of her dress then her hair. "Can you finish that up, while I discuss something with Miss Regina?"

Grace nodded emphatically and backed away from the door. Emma's gaze turned to Regina. The brunette woman's lips were pursed.

"I suppose you'd better come inside. I'd rather not have more flies than you've already let in for the last five minutes."

Emma turned and took another step inside, closing the kitchen door behind her. "Alright then."

* * *

 

Regina's gaze drifted to the back of Emma's right shoulder. There was a small tear in the seam. She felt her hand begin to lift, and firmly stiffened it against the urge to reach out. "Miss Swan," she said, fighting to keep her voice from shaking, "what do you want?"

Emma turned around; green eyes now captured hers. "You," she said.

Regina inhaled.

"I need you to tell me you're OK," Emma added.

"I'm fine," Regina said, trying for a biting tone. But Emma's gaze was disturbingly intimate and Regina swallowed when she finished her words.

Emma grimaced, glanced at Grace and then back at Regina. "I need your services," she said firmly.

Regina blinked. "You what?!"

"I want you. Alone. Now." Emma grasped Regina's hand, sending a tremor through her body.

Regina looked at Grace. "I think it's time you went up to bed, dear." Inside she was shaking. Emma wanted her... services? Grace's brow furrowed. "Go on, now," Regina added quietly. "Miss Swan and I have some... business."

Grace blinked. "Business?" Then a light seemed to dawn on the young face and Regina felt her heart trip a beat. "Oh. Uh. Oh!" The girl scurried away, lifting her skirt to move more quickly.

"Thank god," Emma said. Regina's gaze snapped to Emma's from having followed Grace's flight from the room.

"What on earth?" Regina fumed. "Miss Swan, you had better explain yourself."

"I needed to see you alone. Only thing I could think of which would drive away young ears."

Regina was surprised for the second time in as many minutes. "What? You don't want me?"

Emma twisted her hat in her hands and then threw it aside, capturing Regina's head behind the neck with one hand and pulling her in.

"You know I do," she breathed into the kiss she settled upon Regina's lips. Regina's gasp opened her mouth and Emma's tongue touched her own. It seemed to be an accident, though. Regina felt Emma shudder as hard as she herself did at the intimacy.

She whimpered; Emma groaned. Emma's other hand came up, cupped Regina's cheek, and the kiss deepened. Their curves fit together softly and seamlessly.

###


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night together. With morning comes awkwardness.

When Emma felt Regina go boneless and mold lush curves to her body, Emma reluctantly ended the kiss. Regina's look of consternation brought Emma's hand back to cup her cheek as she spoke. "I didn't come here for more," Emma murmured.

"Why would you suggest we have business then?" Regina asked.

"I didn't want Grace to hear what I wanted to discuss with you."

"So reminding her I run a whorehouse was your first thought?"

"Why are you upset? You do run a whorehouse."

"It's not the only thing I do. We do. Here." Regina huffed.

"God damn, woman. I know that. What the hell? I didn't come here - Shit." Emma pulled back, pulling her hand through her own hair. "I was worried. About you."

"You have already expressed yourself on that matter. Several times. I do not need to hear it again. You could always leave. I can take care of myself."

"I can't," Emma replied.

"Can't take care of yourself?"

"Can't leave," Emma corrected.

Regina opened her mouth. Emma didn't want to hear more protest. No more words. She stepped forward, reached out and snagged Regina Mills around the waist, pulling the woman's to her, and melded their lips together.

This time she was discontent with chaste. With her tongue, she plundered Regina's mouth, extracting a moan that vibrated within the chest pressed against her own. Regina tasted of cider and cinnamon, sweet and spicy, and it caused wetness to pool between Emma's thighs. She groaned into the heat of Regina's mouth, and ground her hips into Regina's.

The motion started to set Regina off-balance and she stepped back. Emma followed and swallowed an "oof" when the brunette's back crashed into a larder door. Regina's hands tangled in Emma's hair, holding their faces together while Emma sucked and pecked at patches of skin, hungry for every taste of the flawless flesh. She palmed a breast, abrading the nipple through the bodice until the motion moved it down and she had a sweet, bountiful mound cupped in her palm. Her thumb teased the stiffening nipple.

Emma lowered her arm from Regina's waist, cupping and lifting the woman's rear and backing her onto the counter. Mouths still locked together, Emma felt Regina's thighs encircle her hips, the skirt of her dress bunching above her knees.

Emma lowered her mouth from Regina's to nip and teethe at the soft underside of the brunette's throat, the loose dark silken hairs of the woman's nape tickling her lips. A soft thud signaled Regina had thrown her head back into a wood cabinet. Emma's hand slipped from breast to thigh, pushing underneath the gown to the warmth of Regina's center. She felt the warmth against her own belly.

Her heart stampeded like a herd of wild horses echoing in her ears. Then it stuttered. A delicate hand had found its way to Emma's clavicle, brushing against the skin, parting the buttons of her flannel shirt.

"Regina," she breathed.

The woman's lips pressed to revealed skin. Then Emma was snared, utterly and completely, by her name in a voice smooth as 30-year-old whiskey.

"Emma."

Emma breathed into the dark hair, soothing her fingers over Regina's neck while the woman's lips continued to press against her own heated flesh. "Your room?"

She heard Regina's breath catch. Then the woman nodded against Emma's belly, taking Emma's hand from her neck as she straightened upright.

Dazed, Emma followed as Regina slid from the counter and led her by the hand to a set of narrow stairs. It was barely wide enough for her, and Emma knew instinctively no man had ever traversed these steps.

Regina's hand grew slightly damp in Emma's palm, conveying her nervousness. Emma squeezed it gently. In the darkness she heard Regina's small inhale.

At the top of the landing, Regina turned to the right and a small doorway opened. Moonlight spilling through a window was the only navigable lighting. Furnishings in silhouette gave shape to a simple room. Within the private space Emma identified the outlines of a dresser, a plain mirror reflecting the moon's beams atop, and a small table beside a box framed bed.

Emma pulled Regina against her before the woman could step further inside. Front to back, she stroked her hands up and down the woman's waist, then upward to part buttons. Emma kissed Regina's throat when the woman's head lolled back against her shoulder. The gown parted and Emma slid it from soft shoulders, palming breasts with both hands. Regina's moan vibrated the skin beneath Emma's lips.

The gown held to hips until Emma pushed the fabric down and it pooled on the floor over their feet. Regina stepped out and turned in Emma's arms, melding their lips together once more.

Then Regina was disrobing Emma. It was all sensation: warmth on her breasts, feather light touches on her hips, hands grasping her legs, and finally strokes between her thighs.

Skin to skin at last, the women fell to the bed, wood frame creaking ominously, barely separating save to assure the other was unhurt.

Fingers caressed skin, chased by soft lips. The moonlight touched them, creating more paths on their bodies to explore. Emma writhed under Regina's attention, only to grasp the woman and turn them over to worship Regina with the fervor of an acolyte to a goddess.

* * *

Regina awakened at the sound of feet passing outside her door. She started upward only to be caught by arms squeezing gently. The moon had set. From the shadows depths around the room, Regina knew the sun was about to rise. Reaching out from beneath the warm covers and warmer arm, she lifted her father's pocket watch from the small table beside the bed. She blinked until her eyes adjusted and she could read the hands. The time was just before five. She exhaled, glancing over her shoulder in a quandary.

"I can sneak out." Emma's breath was warm against Regina's neck, and she shivered. In that same moment, she changed her mind. She grasped the hand that had fallen back to her hip, and cupped it to her belly. Emma's tiny strokes there made Regina's eyes close, absorbing the tenderness.

"Don't go," she whispered, afraid and hopeful at the same time. There was something about Emma Swan that made Regina want to hold her close, and want to be held close.

Emma lifted up, her golden hair, the bright spot in the dim room, fell all around Regina's shoulders as she lowered down. Green eyes became Regina's whole world. Her name was breathed against her lips just before Emma's nose slid alongside her own, and her mouth was teased open with dancing little nips, extracting a helpless moan.

She arched her back, lifting herself into Emma's body. Emma's hands were hot against her, addictive, safe, protective. Emma cupped under her head, pulling her up, before caressing her back as she moved with hot kisses down Regina's torso. Emma spread her thighs with her own body first, then with hands and, finally, claimed her with a caressing tongue.

Regina stroked her hands through Emma's hair, whispering her name over and over again, feeling lighter than air, and yet so secure it felt like she was a baby being rocked to sleep. Then she was releasing with every muscle, her throat opening, and she cried out.

Emma held her, but the sound was still echoing in Regina's ears when rapping sounded against the door. Regina hid her face in Emma's breasts, with Emma's fingers tangling and untangling in her hair.

"Regina!" It was Vivian. The door was opening before either could move.

Light from the hall spilled in a small circle. Regina knew both she and Emma were clearly seen.

Regina shook her head then spoke calmly, but distinctly enough to carry to the door. "Vivian, I'm fine. Please see to everyone's breakfast. I will be down in a few minutes."

"Will you need another place set?" Vivian spoke calm as you please and Regina felt her cheeks heat.

Regina covered Emma's mouth when the blonde chuckled. "Yes, please."

"Right nice of you to stay, Miss Emma. Caroline makes the best flapjacks."

Emma cleared her throat. "I'll be sure to take note."

"You do that. See you downstairs, Miss Regina."

The door snicked quietly back into place, leaving Regina in the darkness with Emma once more.

Emma pulled away from Regina and she closed her hand rather than resort to the reflex grasp she wanted to do. The small lamp on the other bedside suddenly cast the woman in its light, Emma's hand falling away from the pull string.

Back muscles rippled, magnetically pulling Regina's fingers toward them as Emma bent forward to the floor. She trailed down the edge of Emma's shoulder blade, hesitating at a rough patch. A closer look showed it to be a jagged scar. Regina bent forward and kissed it. Emma shifted away under her lips.

"What is your life, Emma Swan?" Regina breathed against the woman's hand when she turned to grasp Regina's hand and caught her face instead.

"When you look at me like that, I feel like I have one," Emma replied. A shadow of pain called to Regina from within green eyes. "You are such a fine woman." Regina leaned into the palm and gratifyingly saw the shadows fall away.

She rested her head on Emma's shoulder, stroking the top of Emma's breast. The moment, which Regina hesitantly was calling romantic in her head, was broken by a rumbling sound. She glanced down and smiled. She glanced up and caught Emma's sheepish smile. "Sounds like Caroline's flapjacks are calling your name."

Emma chuckled. "I'd rather you were calling my name… again." Emma kissed her. "But I guess we'd better step out before someone else comes looking for you."

* * *

Following Regina down the back staircase, Emma rolled her lower lip through her teeth nervously. She had been able to chuckle off Vivian finding her with Regina, but there would be the girl, Grace, and Areliz, and the other women of Regina's house. She didn't want to care what they thought of her.

But she did. Deeply. They thought so much of Regina, who was beginning to hold a really big piece of Emma's heart. Emma found herself wanting them to like her, too.

When she turned the corner, those seated around the kitchen table gave Regina a wide smile. One by one their gazes stumbled over Emma. Not one registered surprise, though a few - Grace among them - registered dismay. Vivian dipped her head when Emma caught her eye. Cautious intensity radiated from the gray eyes. Emma nodded back, accepting the unspoken demand.

All the girls and women got to their feet, circling around Regina and offering morning greetings. Emma stood back, watching Regina with each of them, asking about this or the other small thing in each one's life.

"Miss Emma."

She turned to see Grace had come to her shoulder. The girl's gaze was wary. "Yes?"

Emma sensed all eyes turning to her and the girl. "Miss Emma, would you take my seat to break your fast?" The girl blushed and sketched a clumsy curtsy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Regina turn. Emma nodded and put her hand on Grace's shoulder. "Only so long as you have finished breaking yours, young lady."

Regina pulled Grace back to the table. Emma followed. The three of them settled, with a woman Emma did not know giving up her seat so that Emma could take it.

A dirtied plate was taken aside and a fresh stack of flapjacks was placed in front of Emma, along with a fresh mug of milk. Regina hugged Grace and smiled over the girl's head to Emma.

###


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivian and Regina have a conversation about Grace. While Emma works on Regina's property, Regina and Emma talk learning a bit more about each other. Regina leaves a pitcher of lemonade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to paradoxalpoised for beta services for the remainder of the story!

Regina pulled aside the kitchen window curtain once again, searching the yard behind the house. She frowned when she did not immediately see a blond head out by the chicken coop as had been there during the last hour. The sun had pleasantly warmed the glass she realized as she brought her face closer to it to see further around the edges of the window's view.

"She moved herself over to the barn about ten minutes ago." Regina turned to see Vivian entering the kitchen with a tray full of empty mugs. In the room beyond, Regina heard the sounds of movement and knew the morning's lessons had ended. After the early morning chores were done, the women who wanted it, sat together learning to cipher, read, and write, from Vivian who had intended to be a schoolteacher when she first came out west from Tupelo, Mississippi.

Now the gray eyes which had seen so much that morning saw right through Regina. She shook her head and stepped back from the window. They had been friends for too long. "She is an unusual woman," Regina said.

"So what does that make you or I?" Vivian set the tray down beside the chairs then set herself down. Not everything around the house had to be done this minute and the break would allow Regina to settle Vivian's well meaning questions. "She rides alone, and she runs her own life. We do the same."

"After a fashion," Regina said. "She comes and goes anywhere she pleases."

"So do you."

Regina shook her head, lifting her tea and taking a sip to gather her thoughts. "She's noble, good and kind…"

"Where's this self-doubt coming from, Regina Mills? You are the noblest creature that ever walked the streets of Book's Pass, bringing in the girls, seeing to their education."

"But it won't ever take them anywhere. Unless they get away from here."

"So you been thinking about what to do with young Grace."

Regina nodded. "Her father will never stop trying to get her back. We can't live our lives with that hanging over our heads."

"So put her on the night coach that comes through with the mail. Twenty dollars is a lot more'n most get to have a new start. I'm sure we have that in the egg jar just this morning."

"But she's so young."

Vivian shook her head. "No. I ran away from home back east and traveled two thousand miles when I was two years younger than Grace. Tell her the options. She's old enough to make her own choices."

Regina sighed. It was why she had taken in the girl after all, to give her choices. Not have them taken away from her as they had been from Regina, from so many of the other women here.

"We shouldn't tell anyone. Let them think she ran away on her own. That'll keep the trouble off us," Vivian added.

"But we'd know."

"I been living with myself for a lotta hard choices for a fair number of years," Vivian snorted. "What's one more?"

Though she said nothing, gathering up the tea cups and returning to the kitchen, Regina feared this would be the choice that broke her.

* * *

Dropping the hand saw to the dirt, Emma kicked her foot off the hunk of wood she'd been trying to shape into something half useful. She pulled off her plaid cotton outer shirt and tied it around her waist, swiping sweat from her brow with the back of an equally sweaty arm. She looked at the hole in the side of the barn about three feet off the ground and a good two feet wide. Currently patched with a piece of cowhide, the hole had been pecked away in parts by chickens wanting to get at the feed they knew was stored inside. Emma was determined to replaced that leather with a wood plank.

Always used to scrounging and making other things suit a purpose with only sweat-money, she was fashioning a hunk of fallen tree into slats. She'd spent the morning retying all the chicken wire on the coop to keep the damn birds outta her hair. She'd found a machete and used its broad blade shave-style to carve off the bark from one side. She looked at the slice she had just finished hacking off. It was near five-foot lengthwise and three-foot wide. Now all that remained was smoothing the sides to create her wood patch.

Then her task would finish when she found nails that weren't rusted through to secure it to the barn wall.

It was back-breaking labor, but Emma had known worse. And life on the trail wasn't no picnic. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked up at the hole in the barn wall, imagining looking up there in satisfaction tomorrow to see her work's results.

"Water?"

Emma turned to see Regina holding out a tray with a pitcher and two mugs. The brunette smiled at her. Taking a mug, Emma smiled back before putting her head back and speedily drinking the contents in one go. The last few ounces of it poured over her face and she sighed happily. "More in the pitcher?" Emma asked.

"Tea." Regina said. "It's iced."

Regina put down the tray atop the fence post separating the chicken's area from the barn's yard and poured out from the pitcher into both mugs. Emma leaned against the post after Regina handed her mug back. In silence they gazed at one another over the rims of the mugs while sipping. Regina's eyes held a light they hadn't previously, and Emma hoped she was responsible for that, for giving Regina a small moment of happiness, a bit of peace.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asked when she finally let down the cup and looked away to the arrayed materials on the ground.

"Making a wood patch for the hole in the barn wall."

"Why didn't you just use another piece of hide?"

"It isn't keeping the chickens out," Emma pointed out. "I wanted to make sure you didn't have the problem again. How did the hole happen in the first place?"

"Tornado tossed a fence post through it," Regina said. "About three years ago. Killed the cow inside."

"Hence the hide."

"It was an awful stench until we could get that carcass completely cleared."

"I can imagine."

"Cured some of the meat, sold the rest. Amelia tanned the hide and sewed some nice saddlebags which local cowhands bought for the trail. She taught some of us how to make other leather bits and geegaws. We sold them for cash to use at the mercantile and stocked up goods for that winter."

"Well, this patch'll hold against the storms, keeping you safe unless it takes the whole barn."

Regina nodded. Emma absorbed the woman's profile as she stared at the hole. "Where's your safe place in a storm, Emma Swan?"

Emma swallowed as Regina's gaze swung back around to her. "Here and there. Gullies is good, and I've been in some box canyons that have provided real good protection." Regina rolled her eyes. She stopped. "But that's not what you're really asking."

Regina shook her head.

"When being alone on the road gets to be too much..." Emma paused and leaned on the fence post on her crossed arms, looking out at the horizon. "I find a home-cooked meal, maybe ask to sleep in a barn loft for the night." She pointed up toward the one in the building before them. "I'll do a little work to repay the kindness. And in the morning I'll move on."

"Where've you traveled?" Regina asked. "Have you been down to Mexico, or out to the California Territory?"

"Went into Mexico after the floods last year, but haven't made it all the way west yet."

"So it's just you, and Bug, on the trail."

"Yep."

"You ever run cattle?"

"Nah, trailhead running is a commitment. Most ranchers prefer working with men. That knocks me out on a two fronts. But they don't want unknowns skimming their herds."

"But it happens, yes?"

"Yes, I've known a few boys who'd skim herds playing a long game that way."

"What'd you do?"

Emma sighed. "I only went after those with bounties. I made a livin', not a run for sainthood."

Regina nodded. Whatever unspoken question she'd had were answered by Emma's words. "I'll leave the last of the pitcher here. You'll bring it up to the house when you're finished?"

It was the small things, Emma thought. Leaving her the pitcher and asking her to bring it up to the house. Regina wanted her to stay. She wasn't sure she could; she still had a life debt to repay, but the thought she might stay made her glance toward the barn hole, imagining not tomorrow, but looking up at it next year:  _I did that_ , she would say.

And she could be proud.

Unlikely, she snorted at herself. Dreams after all were for innocent children, not people like her. Not orphans with no family and no home. And only a man to chase down to see to justice for all of them.

###


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma comes in from working on Regina's property to find Vivian who says Regina has gone into town. And apparently Grace is going to meet her there. To leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Women with agency make their own choices. Jameson doesn't like that idea. So all hell breaks loose. (This is the "Emma has a gun and clearly knows how to use it" climax.)

Emma started to search around for a lantern when she realized the reason she wanted one was the sunset blazing in the western sky. The long shadows were finally making it too difficult to see her work. She wiped her hands on her pants and pulled off her wide brim hat, running her fingers through her sweat-soaked locks. Best be getting up to the house, return Regina's pitcher, she thought, staring at it sitting on the barn floor a few feet away. She still wasn't sure if she could take the 'message' from the pitcher and be who Regina wanted her to be, but there was no more light to work, so… time to face the music.

Walking to the house, Emma noticed that most of the lights were off. She wondered if any of the men of Book's Pass had come by the house looking for services. She decided it would be better if she came to the back door with the pitcher.

Standing and waiting after the knock, Emma wiped her feet, set down the pitcher and snatched off her hat once more to wipe the sweat from her brow. "Manners," she muttered to herself. She rapped again at the door, heard footsteps inside and pulled her fingers quickly through the tangles of her hand to make herself more presentable.

Her face blossomed into a smile as the door swung open. When she identified the woman before her, however, her expression fell off the happy heights she had been walking since lunchtime iced tea. "Uh."

"She's gone on business."

"Oh." Emma chastised herself for her disappointment no doubt plain on her face. Why had she thought Regina would see her anytime; she had no reason to make herself available simply because Emma was. "I, uh, finished fixing the barn, and, uh." She stopped her stuttering and gestured to the step. "I brought back the pitcher." She hurriedly retrieved it as the woman studied her from beneath lowered brows. "I...can wash it, if you want?"

The woman - Vivian, Emma recalled her name - took a step back. "You may," she said.

"All right." Emma hesitated just inside the door, waiting for Vivian to close it and lead her further inside.

"You know where it is," Vivian said, pointing.

"I...yes." Emma shook herself. "I'll be quick. I won't get in the way."

"You already have," Vivian said, though it was muttered and maybe Emma wasn't supposed to hear.

She had anyway. "Is everything all right?"

"I told you Regina's in town on business."

"What is she doing?"

"None of your business."

Just then Grace came down the stairs carrying a worn satchel. "Miss Emma?"

"Hey, Grace."

"You come to take me?"

"What?"

"To the station. Miss Regina, she's sending me to San Francisco."

"She's doing what?" Emma looked from Grace to Vivian. "Is she serious?"

"She can't stay here. We're not a wayward home and we're not equipped to keep Jameson away forever."

"Who'll care for her?" Emma's hands fisted. "She can't be put out on her own."

"I was younger than her when I set out west on my own."

"But that's you. Look at her, she's no more than a kid."

"So you think she can stay in a whorehouse?"

"She's a cattleman's daughter. Let her tend to the farm stuff. Maybe you can make a better go of that!"

"Some of us don't want to roll in sheep shit for the rest of our lives."

"You think whoring is going to change that?" Emma shook her head. "Did you convince her to do this? I thought you and Regina were friends."

"We are." But Vivian dropped her gaze slightly when Emma set her jaw.

Emma grabbed Grace's hand. "You go on upstairs and unpack. I'm gonna get Regina back here."

"I should go. I don't want to put the other women in danger any more," Grace said.

"So you got to her too?" Emma groused at Vivian.

"With sense," Vivian insisted. "You're just like him, y'know. All nobility and no sense. You can't fight everything the world is."

"I've been on my own since…" Emma shook her head. "No. You don't deserve to know me."

Vivian was caught by the arm. "What?"

"When does the coach come through?"

"About an hour."

Emma stalked out of the front door.

Grace followed.

* * *

 

"'Nother cup, Regina?"

Regina Mills looked up from the bottom of her empty coffee mug to see Eugenia Lucas leaning on the frame between the kitchen and the dining area holding a tin pot.

"Are you trying to keep me awake?" Regina asked. She nevertheless held the cup up and watched Eugenia pour and then sit at the table across from her.

"Ain't that what you doin'?" Eugenia asked. "You been sittin' here since I cleared out everybody else, jus' sippin'. Don' ya gotta be gettin' on to yer place?"

"What? You need the table for other customers?"

"Don' be foolish. So, tell me, what business is keepin' you up so late?"

"Night time is my time," Regina replied. "As you well know."

"Can't blame me for guessin'. Things have been all topsy turvy with that lady gunslinger moseyin' in and making waves in this parched desert town. Leads one to thinkin' things might not always stay the same."

"Emma certainly did upend things around here."

"Wee bit." Eugenia demonstrated with her thumb and forefinger parted slightly in the air between them. "T'be honest, though, she didn't start nothing. She jus' carryin' on."

"Is that so?"

"There's more agree with you than Jameson. This ain't the East. We ought to run ourselves by different rules."

"You make me sound positively subversive, Eugenia. I just sheltered a girl who asked for my help like any good christian would."

"Our Lord Savior was a subversive then, too," Eugenia stated, trying out the word. "In His day they been all y'ain't s'posed t'cotton to them folk." Eugenia smiled. "But He done it anyways."

Regina dipped her head to hide her heated cheeks, the praise a shock.

"So, what're you plannin'?" Eugenia's question brought Regina's head back up.

"Who says I'm planning anything?"

"Yer never in town on a workin' night."

Regina shook her head. "You old wolf," she laughed a little and sighed. In a low voice she let out her secret. "I bought Grace a ticket on the night coach. Vivian is bringing her when it's full dark."

"Jameson ain't gonna like that."

"He isn't going to know about it 'til she's too far away to catch."

Eugenia patted her arm following the undertone of threat. "He won't hear none from me or mine. My Ruby she's taken a shine to Miss Emma, and this is probably her idea."

Regina balked at the idea that Ruby might be interested in Emma. But she was firm, with her mind on the task when she informed Eugenia, "Emma doesn't know."

"She don't?"

Regina shook her head. "I don't want her to catch Jameson's wrath anymore than she already has."

"That woman seems mighty capable of takin' care of herself. And what about how angry Jameson'll be when he finds out you done it?"

"He won't do anything to me."

"What's to stop him?"

Regina toyed with her mug's handle, the solidity soothing her. So when she lifted her eyes to Eugenia's once more, they held the glint of steel he'd taught her to have. "I have information that Daniel found. Vivian has instructions to deliver it to the circuit judge if anything happens to me."

Eugenia's jaw dropped a moment, then snapped shut and a smirk curved her lips. "You call me the wolf but, I'll be damned, you got some wily fox in you, Miss Regina."

Regina dipped her head, this time accepting the accolade with a tiny smile.

* * *

 

Emma crouched outside in the shadows of the inn, watching through the window as Regina and Eugenia talked. Unable to hear what they were saying, nonetheless she saw Eugenia laugh, Regina smile, and then slowly get to her feet.

Looking around as Regina emerged onto the inn's porch and pushed back deeper into the shadows, Emma was glad she had managed to turn Grace back before they reached the livery. She was going to fetch Regina, have her give back the ticket, and take the woman home, where she hoped to be able to snuggle up with her - after enduring the spitfire's anger for interfering. But Emma was certain she was better in the know about how this would all end if Regina was successful in getting Grace on that night coach.

Regina walked toward the station, moving in and out of the lamp lights. Emma kept to the shadows behind her, boots barely making a sound on the dirt since she avoided the wood planks forming the main walkway in front of the businesses.

The door chime at the station jangled as Regina pushed open the office door. Emma hugged the side of the building out of sight when Regina turned to enter. Creeping toward the corner to see if the way was clear, Emma caught movement in shadows across the street.

She growled, recognizing Grace with a kerchief tied around her hair crouched behind a hitching post. Her satchel lay on the ground beside her.

Voices sounded in the stagecoach office and Emma watched the porch light flame to life, a signal to the incoming coach that there was a passenger pickup to be made. Beneath the lamp light, Regina handed the man the ticket and settled to the bench.

 _What? Was Regina planning to leave instead?_  Emma crouched by the building watching the station manager lock up. The keys jangled in his pocket as he sauntered on to his home.

Emma watched Regina for a moment more. The woman continued to sit, appearing quiet and relaxed.

After a few minutes, Regina looked up, and fumbling through her bag, she seemed to drop a white kerchief to the ground.

Grace crept forward. Emma's eyes narrowed. No, Regina had been watching the street for activity, and signaled now to Grace that the area was clear.

Emma scanned the area herself, eyes more used to the darkness. As Grace started to move so, too, did a shadowy bulk over at the general store. Emma didn't recognize the shape, suspecting it wasn't Jameson, but a hired hand. Emma crept into position and slipped her gun from its holster.

Emma crept toward the shadow and cold-cocked him behind the ear with the heavy iron of her gun's barrel. He went down with barely a sound. Emma paused as his face was caught in the moonlight. She sighed. He looked young but she put him from her mind as she crept past his unconscious body.

She looked around but did not see any other unwanted onlookers.

She heard the rumbling of the stagecoach wheels and the pounding of the horses' hooves approaching from the east and stepped out from her shadows.

"Regina! Stop!" The brunette rose from her seat, eyes landing on Emma, expression anxious. Emma wanted to reassure her. She started forward.

"Emma?" Grace turned. "No!"

Emma heard the click of a hammer and spun, already raising her gun's barrel. Regina's cry sounded close. Emma fired her weapon toward the click over by the general store. A body slammed into hers, followed by a scream.

She felt the dirt and wood under her face as she hit the deck. Her head hit the side of the building where she'd leaped and gray fogged her senses.

"You shot him!"

Emma winced and opened her eyes, looking up at the young man she thought she had knocked out. He stared down at her along the shaking barrel of a gun he held between both fists. He might not hit her, but she didn't react well to a gun in her face in any case. Emma jerked her hand even before the idea fully formed and grasped her fallen gun.

"Stop! Jason, stop!"

The young man above her responded to Grace's voice and looked away from Emma. Though not lowering her gun, Emma kicked at his hands; his weapon clattered into the street. The young man's shoulders sagged as he stared at her almost dumbly.

"What'd you do that for?" he groused at Grace who came stomping onto the decking; Emma really wished the girl wouldn't rattle the boards like that, because her back ached something fierce.

"Stop," Grace said. "Daddy's dead."

"You cain't tell me what to do," Jason said.

"Pa is dead. I'm his only heir. You work for me now," Grace said confidently.

Emma's pain-fogged brain registered that Jameson, somehow miraculously, was dead. Must've been her shot into the dark what killed him. She rolled over only to find a dark-haired form on the ground beside her. Immediately she recognized, reached, and yelled, "Regina!"

"I think my pa shot her," Grace said, leaning over both of them, looking at Regina. Emma sat up, gripping Regina's body and sorting out the source of the blood she felt warmly coating her hands. She gripped reflexively tighter when she realized it was Regina's left upper arm. The squeeze woke Regina, who had likely passed out from the pain, back awake to experience the full pain of her injury.

She cried out. Emma rocked her. The stagecoach clattered to a stop in the street. "Somebody need a ride?"

No one answered him. The coach driver hopped down, and several owners from the surrounding businesses converged on the tiny porch where Emma Swan rocked Regina Mills, who had once again fallen unconscious, and 14-year old Grace Jameson stood guard over a shame-faced looking Jason Gantry, cowhand at the Jameson Ranch.

###


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Vivian talk, then Regina and Emma. And some resolutions are made.

Persistent pain throbbed and woke Regina Mills from her sleep. Having experienced it before, she knew the laudanum was wearing off. Even as she tried to gauge the time, the silence of the room was broken by the turning of the door's knob. She jerked toward the sound, letting out a cry as she twisted her injured arm into new sharp pain.

"Regina?" Vivian moved quickly into the room, not bothering to latch it shut. "Don't try to move," she said.

"You…" Regina inhaled and exhaled, somewhat calming the pain. "You startled me."

"I apologize. I was bringing up water," she held up the pitcher in her hands. "Do you want more laudanum?"

Regina managed to make most of the pain subside through sheer force of will as she resettled herself against the pillows. She lifted her good arm and dropped it. "No. No, I think I would like to remain clear-headed for a while."

Vivian smiled at that. "Would you like a little soup, or tea?"

"How long has it been since I last ate?" Regina lifted her hand again, this time in entreaty. Vivian instantly settled to the edge of the bed, linking her hand with her friend's.

"If you had something to eat at Granny's while waiting for Grace to arrive, that was two days ago."

Regina closed her eyes.  _Two days?_  Emma had to be gone by now, if she wasn't killed by the same gunshots that still rang in Regina's ears. Two shots. She knew, from the pain in her arm, that she had taken one. The other… She looked up at Vivian, not sure how to ask.

"What is it? What do you need?"

"Emma?" Regina pushed the word past the lump in her throat.

"I'm here."

Regina winced when Vivian jumped up. "Learn to knock!" Regina strained to see around Vivian's body, which the woman had placed defiantly between Regina and the door.

"Door was open," Emma said, and the matter-of-fact tone was music to Regina's ears. "So?"

"Regina needs her rest." Vivian put her hands on her hips.

"Vivian, it's...I want to see Emma."

"But-"

Regina interrupted, "I'd like some tea. If you're still offering?"

Vivian's face contorted in conflict, but she finally nodded and withdrew. Regina's eyes tracked her exit only until they fell upon Emma Swan, who turned and quietly closed the door.

The familiar sight of Emma in her denims and the plaid shirt untucked, revealing the woman was healthy and whole brought tears of relief to Regina's eyes. Emma turned at the sob Regina didn't know she had uttered and bolted across the room. "Regina!"

Gingerly reaching out and taking Regina's hands, Emma searched her face, as Regina did the same, though the sight was blurred.

"Em...Emma?" A palm cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away loose tears.

The pale pink bottom lip rolled between fretting teeth. The fingers holding her own squeezed. Emma opened her mouth twice, apparently trying to speak. Regina was about to ask what was wrong when Emma leaned forward and pressed her lips to Regina's. The contact was tender and chaste.

Regina never wanted it to stop. When Emma started to pull away, Regina tried to lift her hands to pull her close, but her damaged left arm screamed in pain and she whimpered just as Emma fully separated their mouths.

"Damn it, fool woman, you could have been killed!"

That got Regina's back up. "I could have been killed?" she stressed. "Jameson was gunning for  _you_!"

"Then you let me take the shot! I can handle it! You...you're...you…"

Lifting her good right arm, Regina slapped Emma's face, making the woman's hand leave her to cup her burning cheek. "Idiot! I snuck out so you wouldn't follow me."

"You thought I would just let you put Grace on some coach to go to California territory on her own? That girl is  _my_  responsibility."

"Vivian reminded me that  _girl_  was old enough to be married off, and thus old enough to make her own decisions."

"So you just went ahead?"

"I gave Grace the choices she had. She was willing to leave."

"She ain't leavin' now."

That made Regina stop. "Grace didn't get on the coach?"

"No." Emma sounded angry.

"Why are you angry? That's what you wanted, right?" Then Regina had a thought. "Jameson's not dead, is he?"

"My shot was true," Emma said. "He's being buried out at his ranch on Saturday."

"Then what the hell is wrong?" Regina put her hand to her head, staving off the throbbing headache returning to her temples.

"Some of Jameson's men want justice."

"So this  _is_ goodbye," Regina said with resignation.

"Regina, you..you almost...died. I... on that sidewalk, hold...holding your...you." Emma exhaled. "I realized that I...you... You're important to me."

"But when the circuit judge comes through, he'll…"

"I'll stand trial," Emma said. "Grace says she'll testify that her father was going to shoot me in the back."

"The word of a  _girl_? What about the men?"

"Only one other was there. And Grace insists she can handle him."

"Whether she can or not, why put yourself through that?" Regina asked. "You usually run."

"I should. I still have someone I need to find," Emma said. "But you're here. And I find I can't leave you." As Emma pushed her hands through her hair, Regina noted how unruly it was, lank and unwashed; how drawn Emma's face was, patches of deep color under her eyes. She had to take care of herself.

Regina closed her eyes and rubbed at her temple ineffectually with one hand. "I'd rather know you were alive, out there, somewhere, than dead, either from a bullet in the back or the hanging the circuit judge will decree."

"You don't know that will happen."

"You don't know it  _won't_ happen," Regina snapped.

Emma put her hands in her own lap and looked away. "Do you want me to go?"

Regina's pain was manifold in that moment. The physical pain of her arm however was somehow less than the pain in her chest from the idea that Emma Swan would be departing her life. She bit her lip, but finally she whispered, "No."

Emma's gaze held hers. She nodded. "All right then." The broad work-calloused hand slipped over Regina's belly. Silence reigned as they stared at each other, rejoicing in reunion, and a tentative beginning. Then a knock at the door made Emma jump. She stood, fingers lingering on Regina's until they were too far apart to continue touching. "Get some sleep."

"I'll miss you," Regina said.

"I'll miss you more," Emma replied, her lips quirking up at the corners as she bent over again, claiming a soft kiss.

A throat cleared. Regina saw Vivian stood in the doorway as Emma straightened from their kiss. She kept hold of the fingers trying to slip free of her grasp. "Vivian, would you make sure Emma has what she needs?"

Vivian's eyes narrowed at Emma. "You leavin'?"

"No," Emma said.

Vivian came to the side of the bed, leveled her gaze at Emma and narrowed her eyes further. After several beats where Emma could feel herself beginning to squirm, Vivian huffed only one word, "Good." Then she looked away from Emma, as though dismissing her from her mind. She held the mug for Regina to sip. With her good hand steadying the other side, Regina drank slowly. The bedridden woman sighed and seemed to relax.

Vivian said, "I'll tell the others downstairs that you've gone back to sleep."

"Who's downstairs?"

"Ruby and her gran are with the other girls. Grace came over. A few of the men."

"I'd like to see Grace," Regina said.

Vivian's lips pursed but she smoothed them quickly. "Fine."

Emma withstood another glare as Vivian took the now empty mug and withdrew. "What are you going to talk to Grace about?" she asked.

"Her future as a rancher."

###


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future arrives at Book's Pass.

_eight months later…_

"We're gonna be a state! We're gonna be a state!" People whooped and hollered; youngsters danced and some not so young tossed their hats high in jubilation. They all converged on a home where the boards wore a fresh coat of white paint, baby blue trimmed the doors and blue gingham curtains hung in the windows.

Dressed in dungarees and a plaid green shirt not quite buttoned to the top, Emma Swan emerged from the home's front door, shielding her green eyes from the midday sun. "What's going on?" she asked, tying back her long unruly blonde curls.

Ruby leaped onto the porch and swung around the beam. "State man coming. We're gonna be a state!"

Emma reentered the house, emerging a moment later leading Regina Mills wearing a simple shirtwaist blue dress. Normally perfectly coiffed hair was askew in its pins. Fisting her right hand on her hip, she spoke sharply to another face in the crowd, "And this couldn't wait for the town meeting after school Monday?"

"We need a government," Eugenia said, "a real one, elected by the people."

"It'll be cattlemen against the farmers," someone else shouted.

Eugenia turned her dark eyes on him fisting her hands on her ample frame. "So we get a mayor who ain't neither. Businessman, looking to grow this town for all of us."

"You?" He snorted.

"Not me," Eugenia said. "I nominate Regina Mills as the first mayor of Book's Pass."

Regina leaned on the roof beam. "Me?"

"You are always looking out for our best interest. Getting your girls to teach a local school...Running your business fair and equitable. You even doing negotiating with the train companies to get a trailhead here, to turn this place into a market so's we don't have to go all the way to Abilene…"

Emma whispered in Regina's ear, "Go you," and Regina blushed.

"But it would be just like Jameson running us if we don't have an actual election. Let the majority decide. Who else will run for mayor?"

There was a commotion. In the end a cattleman announced he would also run.

"We need to elect a sheriff, too," Ruby shouted. "Gotta have good law 'round here. Someone fair. Impartial." She looked up at Emma and pointed. "You can run for Sheriff, Emma!"

There's less consternation about Emma's nomination going unopposed. Everyone had been present at the trial over Jameson's death and heard his own ranch hand tell the circuit judge how Jameson was aimin' to shoot Swan in the back when Miss Regina jumped out and Emma turned, firing her weapon at Jameson's position. Miss Regina had been hit by the bullet meant for Swan, and Jameson, the Lord's justice served up, died from Emma's dead-on shot to his chest.

Over the last eight months, Emma had become a fixture in the town. Literally. She could be found most mornings, fixing up this, that, and other things for farmer or merchant alike. She needed money, she said, and she was honest enough to work for it.

About two months later, while Regina was still facing the loss of use of her left arm, Emma turned over the money to Regina and told her to open a school. Everyone heard about it at church that Sunday. Vivian was going to be the primary teacher, with several of the other girls working with smaller groups of the townspeople's children, educating them without having to send them to the next county for schooling.

When Arizona became a state years later, the celebration at Book's Pass was opened with a speech from Mayor Regina Mills, and the safety of everyone in attendance was assured by Sheriff Emma Swan.

_**The End.** _


End file.
